


The Ilfracombe Incident

by amandasarmada



Series: Newt and Tina (Headcanon Ficverse) [5]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dragons, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut (Posted Separately), F/M, Married Life, Married Newtina, don't do this to me jkr, don't hurt me like that, for now anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandasarmada/pseuds/amandasarmada
Summary: The year is 1932, and a Fantastic Beast is about to mysteriously emerge on a beach full of sunbathing Muggles.  Follow Newt and Tina Scamander's adventures in the events leading up to and following this historical moment in the Wizarding World.  (WIP.)





	1. Summer Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newtina spends the morning in bed, until they are interrupted by some rather jarring news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jsyk, this is the PG-13 version of the chapter. I'll be posting [explicit outtakes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10703466/chapters/23708580) separately though, for those who are into that.

**June 11, 1932**

In his thirty-five years, Newt Scamander had experienced glorious deserts and majestic seas, and yet, somehow, a part of him privately thought he would never find another place on Earth quite as beautiful as Dorset in June.

He smiled, looking out over the sweeping meadow that spread across the long acres behind their farm cottage. He'd just finished up his morning feedings, making his rounds through the stables, the miniature forest on the outskirts, the meadow, and of course, the few creatures he still maintained in the case. It was early, the morning sun still in the midst of its leisurely crawl above the horizon; he doubted it was even seven yet.

His worn boots made a pleasant pattering sound as he crossed the path through the garden, pretending not to notice the little line of gnomes creeping their way back from beyond the hedge. A couple of porlocks darted past him as he stepped up to the door, chittering away to each other as Newt let himself inside.

“...Well, hello there.” Newt smiled, scooping up the fluffy catlike creature trying to wind its way around his legs. “Come to greet me?” It purred contently, nuzzling its face against Newt's chin.

“Good to see you too,” he chuckled, hugging him to his chest. “What do you say friend, care to come see Mummy?” he added, touching his nose to the kneazle's.

It started squirming as they reached the kitchen; Newt stooped, letting him jump from his arms.

He smiled as he straightened back up, expecting to see the familiar image of Tina poring over the paper at the breakfast table. The kitchen, however, seemed untouched this morning. Missing, too, was the usual wafting scent of fresh coffee, and a glance told him the kneazles' food dish still needed refilling from the evening before. Newt raised his eyebrows mildly, looking back down at the little fellow who'd accompanied him.

“Hmm. Seems Mum's having a bit of a lie-in this morning,” he said lightly, bending low to give his companion a quick scratch behind the ears. “Well, she's certainly earned it,” he sighed, smiling slightly. “I suppose you'd like your breakfast though?” The kneazle purred, rubbing against his leg.

He tried to work quietly as he pulled the bag of cat food from the cupboard, though not quite quiet enough to keep the second kneazle from darting into the kitchen, eager for his morning meal. Newt left them to it, making his way back up the stairs.

“Tina?” he murmured softly, peering curiously into their bedroom.

He paused in the threshold, breath catching at the sight.

She was laying sprawled across the bed, sunlight dancing off her face in the morning light. He approached her quietly, taking care not to wake her.

He entertained briefly the thought of starting breakfast - it would be lovely to get to surprise her with breakfast in bed, the thought of her smile sending a delightful shiver down his spine - but after a moment's hesitation decided it could wait a bit, the temptation to join her too strong to ignore.

Years in the field had taught him to move stealthily, and it was these skills he fell back on as he slid in next to her, Tina slumbering peacefully on, her chest rising and falling with every breath.

Newt smiled, rolling onto his side to better contemplate his wife.

Most mornings weren't like this. Tina was rarely self-indulgent, particularly when it came to sleep. Most mornings, by the time Newt returned to the house from his pre-dawn feedings, he would find her already in the kitchen, dressed for work and with a mug of steaming coffee pressed to her lips. Their mornings were generally hurried, the two usually limiting themselves to one long, lingering kiss, intended to try and last them through the span of the workday. She would settle into him hungrily, seeming to take energy from his lips as he poured his heart and soul into her, finally smiling that sweet smile of hers before she scurried out the door, having barely exchanged a few words all the while.

And that was it, most mornings - she was exceedingly punctual, always eager and determined to get to work. She'd be at the Ministry by eight-thirty, most days, already halfway through her morning paperwork in the Auror office by the time he stumbled into the Beast division forty minutes later, flashing his colleagues a sheepish smile. 

He didn't mind. He was glad she was passionate about her job. He knew she was anxious, still, to prove herself in this new country, rebuild the reputation she'd worked so long and hard for at MACUSA. If that meant sacrificing a more intricate, intimate morning routine while she devoted herself to the new position, so be it. There would be time for long, romantic mornings in bed later – years of them. He got a taste of them on the weekends, occasionally, but even then she was prone to climb out of bed early and slide behind her desk, her nose in a file from the office, sipping her coffee as he smiled at her from the doorway, his shirt grimy with dirt and covered in random pet hair from his attentions to the creatures.

 _This_ morning, however, Tina slept blissfully on, moving only enough to allow her husband to slide in next to her under the sheet. Newt pressed his lips to her forehead, his heart beating merrily in his chest as he took in the clean, soapy scent of her. Beside him, Tina was sprawled with her arm around his waist, her warm body curled contently against his, legs entwined in a mass of limbs.

Newt hummed softly under his breath, watching the rays of sun bounce off Tina's shiny hair. She was dressed only in her one-piece step-ins, the weather nice enough to preclude her favored thick-cotton pyjamas. He gazed at her fondly, her expression peaceful as she rested.

He could feel the softness of her skin pressed against him under the covers, and he pressed his lips to the side of her head, inhaling deeply. She stirred slowly, finally returning gradually to consciousness.

“Good morning.” Newt smiled, his fingers in her hair as he held his wife close to him.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, stifling a yawn. The trace of a smile started to spread across her features as the intimacy of their positions dawned on her still subdued senses. She shifted slightly, her eyes opening to take in his mussed curls and loving expression.

“Morning,” she mumbled. Newt beamed at her, and with that simple gesture, her mouth was on his.

He responded instinctively, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her on top of him as he struggled to sit up, his back against the headboard as she straddled him. Tina grinned, her hands framing his face as she murmured another hum of pleasure.

“Last night was _wonderful_ ,” she breathed a moment later, and Newt sighed in agreement, his hands tracing up her back.

“...Could I tempt you for an encore?” she added, breaking away long enough to smile mischievously at him. Newt groaned, one hand drifting up to stroke the milky skin of her cheek.

“Mrs. Scamander, that would be most welcome,” he muttered breathlessly, and Tina laughed into his kiss.

Their lips were gentle at first, the kiss patient and familiar, but it didn't take long for it to become heated. He opened his eyes for a moment, his mouth never leaving hers, watching happily as he slid the straps of her step-ins over her narrow shoulders. Her fingers were playing with his hair, gently stroking at the base of his neck. He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed again as he worked his tongue into her mouth.

He was lost in the feeling of her lips on his, lost in her warmth, her softness, only gradually becoming aware of her unbuttoning his shirt, fingers working nimbly as she caressed his exposed skin. It was heavenly, her tender touch electric against his flesh.

Newt ducked his head, pulling away just long enough to catch his breath, a grin adorning his boyish features. Tina adjusted with all the expertise of someone performing a well-known dance, her mouth drifting seamlessly to address his neck, sucking gently at the sensitive skin. Newt sighed, running his fingers through her hair.

“ _I love you like this,”_ Tina whispered into his ear, before pulling back to meet his gaze. Her expression was radiant, a lovely smile lighting up her face, her dark eyes bright and gleaming.

Her hands were still gracing over his torso, gently slipping the white collared shirt over his shoulders. Their noses bumped as she brought her face back to his, their mouths meeting again with twin smiles.

They kissed in silence as the minutes ticked by, both mesmerized by the sensation of warm lips and soft skin. Eventually he couldn't resist letting his hands drift down, exploring her curves as he pulled the pyjama piece the rest of the way down over her torso, bunching up in smooth silk around her waist. Tina chuckled appreciatively, her head tipping back as she focused on the feeling of his hand cupping her bare breast, gasping as Newt's mouth attached itself to her exposed neck.

He lavished her for what might have been hours, her breath becoming more ragged with each passing minute. His lips danced and sucked across her throat, her ears, her shoulders, then down to tongue her breasts.

“You are _so_ beautiful,” Newt murmured, his eyes traveling up to meet hers. “So beautiful, Tina. You have no idea, what you do to me...”

 _**His** _ _Tina. His_ _**wife.** _

She grinned at him, her hands framing his face. “ _Show_ me,” she urged.

 

 

* * *

It was Newt who came back to himself first, his warm green eyes watching her chest rise and fall, her skin still flushed from their activities.

“...Good morning,” he said again, grinning fondly as he tightened his arm around her waist. Tina giggled in response, burying her head in his neck.

“Feeling up to breakfast, darling? I can make flapjacks for us.”

“Hmmm.” Tina yawned, smiling sleepily. “I think I'm going to take a nap, actually.” She pressed her forehead to his, her eyes full of love. “Maybe later, if you don't mind?” Newt smiled, tracing her cheek with his finger. He didn't mind at all; it actually thrilled him a little that she was letting herself catch up on rest for once. She adored her job, he knew without a doubt, but she gave so much of herself to it – she deserved to keep a little more for herself, if even only occasionally.

No, it had not been a typical morning, Newt thought to himself - though he had no idea at that moment just how true that statement would ultimately prove to be.

* * *

When he returned to the bedroom a couple of hours later she was still lost to the world, stretched out on her stomach as he padded into the room. He smiled, as captivated as ever by the sight of his wife draped across their bed.

He set the mug of coffee on the nightstand, next to her wand and an abandoned book, then crouched on the floor along the bed, his eyes still on her.

“Tina?” he asked softly, touching her shoulder. “It's after ten.”

She stirred, yawning quietly. “Just a few more minutes.”

Newt raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised, but leaned down further to press his lips to her forehead. “Alright then. Coffee's here, when you're ready. Would you like me to bring you some brunch?”

Tina smiled, her eyes still closed. “If you'd liked to,” she nodded, biting her lip.

Newt straightened, his gaze lingering on his lovely wife, until a mild tapping at the window stole his attention. Newt frowned, walking curiously over to open it; he wasn't expecting anything, most of his work-related correspondence went directly to his in-tray at the office, and the newspapers had already been delivered that day.

Nevertheless, a grey screech-owl was waiting for him on the ledge, fluttering inside the moment it was able. “Hello,” Newt murmured, stroking the unfamiliar bird's wing. “Do you have something for me?”

The owl stuck out his leg immediately, a yellow scroll attached with a bit of loose string. Newt creased his brow, taking the proffered parchment and unrolling it. His eyes scanned the letter quickly, which was extremely short and harried-looking, then dropped it, his hands shaking. His mouth had went dry. “Merlin's beard,” he whispered. The full realization washing over him, he jerked back into action, hurrying across the room as the owl swooped back out the window.

“Tina,” he said stridently, touching her shoulder as gently as he could manage in his tensed state. She popped an eye open, stifling another yawn and frowning. “I have to go,” he blurted out, his gaze worried. “Now.”

“It's Saturday,” she mumbled, squinting at him.

Newt swallowed, his heart racing. “A dragon landed on a beach full of Muggles in Devon.”

Tina stared at him for a moment, wondering for an instant if she was still dreaming, then leapt out of the bed without preamble.

 


	2. On The Scene

The wind hit her like a bullet as they Apparated behind a boathouse along the coast, and she clutched her blazer a little more tightly around her as she made a break for the beach, Newt on her heels.

“ _Mercy_ _ **Lewis**_.” Tina halted to a stop, her gaze wandering over the sight that faced her. She felt her mouth fall open, a little gasp of air escaping involuntarily.

It resembled a battlefield, just without all the blood. Unconscious bodies lay scattered across the sand, the only flurry of activity to be detected coming from several robed Ministry officials as they scurried amongst them, silver sparks issuing from their wands.

“What do you think-” Tina began, frowning as she took in the scene.

“I'm not sure,” Newt muttered. He looked as disturbed by the image as she did, his favorite blue coat billowing around him in the wind.

“...Come on,” she said quietly, pulling him along. “This way,” she nodded ahead.

They jogged until she spotted a familiar face, a middle-aged man she knew from work was known as Dwight Prewett. They'd worked together a few times in the field, his position as Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes occasionally overlapping with her Auror duties. She didn't know him particularly well, of course, but he'd always been kind and professional whenever she'd interacted with him, and seemed as good a source of information as any. “Excuse me,” Tina called as they drew closer, signaling him over with a wave. Her hand still clutched Newt's as they reached each other.

Prewett turned to face her, the sheer exhaustion on his face betraying his polite smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Scamander. Thank you for making it on such short notice.” He sighed, nodding his greetings.

“What _happened?_ ” Tina asked anxiously, her gaze returning to the motionless Muggles.

The older man followed her gaze. “Yes. Very unfortunate. I got here just in time to catch the tail end of it,” he said heavily. “No pun intended.” He actually managed a slight smile at that.

“A _dragon_?” Tina exclaimed, gaping at him.

Prewett sobered immediately, a crease appearing in his brow as he nodded. “Never seen anything like it in my life. Over two _hundred_ Muggles, spread across half a _mile_ of coastline...” He shuddered. “Thank bloody Merlin the Tokes were here, or this would have been catastrophic. Marvelous wandwork, the lot of them.” He shook his head. “If they don't earn Orders of Merlin for this, I just might resign in protest.”

“Where is it now?” Newt cut in, still catching his breath from their sprint over. Prewett gave him a funny look, raising an eyebrow.

“The _dragon,”_ Tina interjected, closing her eyes for a moment. Prewett's expression cleared.

“I believe your colleagues are assembled down the beach, Mr. Scamander,” he nodded, pointing to a huddle a hundred yards away. Both followed his gaze; she could spot several of Newt's associates from the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, already engaged in what looked to be a very heated debate.

The Scamanders exchanged a look, Newt's eyes grateful as he touched Tina's shoulder - and then he was off, his coat flapping in the wind. Tina turned back, following Mr. Prewett as he set off back down the sand.

“What happened to these people?” Tina asked worriedly, stepping over a sleeping sunbather.

“Stunned,” he said softly.

“Stunned?” she repeated, gingerly avoiding tripping over a bottle of sunscreen.

“Just a mo', ma'am, and I'll fill you in on the details. I was just about to debrief this lot, anyway.” He nodded, drifting to a stop as they reached a small assemblage of Ministry officials.

Tina stiffened, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the group. “Minister,” she said quickly, ducking her head toward the ground.

Hector Fawley, a normally rather boisterous man, looked uncharacteristically nervous as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief. “Mrs. Scamander, good to see you,” he nodded, offering her a weak smile. “It's Tina, isn't it?”

“Yes, Sir.” She swallowed, nodding nervously.

“Dwight?” The Minister raised his eyebrows, turning his attention back to the man beside her.

“Yes, Minister, as I was just about to tell Tina here – I got the report not fifteen minutes ago, assembled my team in five.” He nodded to the mass of wizards still roaming about amongst the unconscious Muggles. “Apparently it came out of nowhere, swaying over the beach and taking a couple of nasty snaps before flying off again. Nearly took a lad's head off.”

Tina's frown deepened, her gaze scanning the crowd. “Were there any injuries?”

Prewett shook his head. “No fatalities, thank Merlin.”

Tina let out a long breath, her eyes darting to her husband several yards away, who looked deeply engrossed in his conversation with his team.

“There were some minor injuries to several of the Muggles though–” a third Ministry official, a trained Obliviator Tina knew was called Clarissa Towler, spoke up. “A couple of people nearly got trampled, and there were some bloody noses, fights breaking out - people panicking, you know – everyone's fixed up right as rain now, though. _Quite_ fortunate.”

“Are you sure? Is there a Healer here, has anyone checked them all for internal injuries? Bleeding, cracked ribs?” Tina's eyes skimmed over their faces, the urgent sense of concern in her voice clear.

“We're working on it, Auror Scamander, I assure you.” Prewett's expression was calm and reassuring as he surveyed her, a slight smile twitching at his lips.

Tina nodded, glancing down awkwardly. “Right. Sorry.”

“That's perfectly alright, I appreciate your thoroughness. And I've learned to expect boldness from Aurors.” He chuckled, giving her a little half-smile. Tina smiled back, hugging her arms to her chest as she surveyed the crowd of Muggles.

“How in the name of Deliverance Dane did this _happen_?” she mustered.

“I suspect that's a question for your husband, Mrs. Scamander.” It was Minister Fawley who answered. “Seems to have been a rogue, possibly found its way over from the mountains, fancied a bit of sight-seeing.” He laughed feebly, shaking his head.

Tina turned to glance back at Newt again – he was still conversing with his co-workers, though he looked angry now, his gestures getting bigger. She bit her lip.

“How did they manage to contain it?” Tina whispered, her eyes surveying the crowd of Muggles still combing the beach.

“Oh, well, it was chaos, as you might imagine.” Prewett grimaced. “Couldn't Obliviate them all at once, not in those numbers, so they had to Stun them first, one by one - two hundred screaming, running, terrified Muggles. Dreadful thing.” He looked supremely uncomfortable. “You see the results, of course. We're going through in teams now, making sure we've gotten everyone, then we'll Renervate them all in one go.”

She frowned, eying him anxiously.

“Do we know if anyone could have gotten away?!”

“Well, Mrs. Toke thought quickly, I'll give her that – phenomenal thinking under pressure,” Prewett said fairly, glancing around as he spoke. “She Apparated to the carpark almost immediately, set off a boundary to keep the poor souls escaping - it was madness from what I heard, complete panic-”

“ _Almost_ immediately? What about beyond the perimeter - a _dragon_ , how far would the line of sight even be?”

Prewett nodded, still looking uncomfortable. “Quite so. I think the best we can say is that we supremely minimized the damage, which, needless to say, could have been catastrophic.”

Tina sighed, hugging her chest as she watched several of Newt's team Disapparate in midair, their robes flickering as they vanished.

“What's the next step?” She said slowly, turning back to the officials. “ What are we doing?”

“I think we've managed to contain the situation as best we can, the Tokes are quite confident they managed to block off the exits-”

Tina shook her head. “It's not enough. It'd be too easy to have missed someone, or _someones_ -”

“What do you suggest, Tina?” Prewett considered her seriously.

Tina took a deep breath, her body still shaking with adrenaline. “We need to scope out the town, anyone looking nervous or aggravated. I'd suggest keeping a scout around too for the next couple weeks, someone to frequent the bars and restaurants, see if anyone's spreading stories and find the perpetrators-”

Prewett nodded, looking tired. “Agreed. Minister, what say you?”

“Sounds a bit overzealous, if I'm being honest-” Fawley avoided Tina's disappointed gaze. “But I suppose we can spare a few wands, just to be on the safe side. Can't be too careful, after all, times like these...” He sighed.

Prewett turned to the other members of the group. “You heard the man. Towler, Smith, Harper, make the rounds through the city square - keep your ears to the ground, and try not to look too conspicuous. Morris, Jorkins, you'll take it in shifts in the evenings, at least for the next fortnight, until we can see what the damage is.” He clapped his hands together, thinking hard. “Markham - send a message to Diggory in Experimental Charms, see if they know any way to alert us if anyone in the village uses the word “dragon” or “witch”, so we can track them. Ask them to look into records of name magic, maybe consult with the gents in the MLE responsible for maintaining The Trace. Could be helpful.” He glanced at Tina with a small smirk. “That thorough enough for you, Mrs. Scamander?”

She blushed slightly, as Prewett pushed on. “Alright, I'm off to talk to the Tokes again, but everyone stick close, we should be starting the Renervation in a few. Mrs. Scamander, if you'd tell your husband to come find me when he gets the chance, I'll need to interview him at some point for my report.”

“Of course.”

The crowd dissipated, the various witches and wizards going their separate ways. Tina turned slowly in a circle, eyes searching out a familiar blue coat. She sighed, realizing he must have Disapparated, no doubt to go tend to the beast. They'd be keeping it somewhere secluded nearby, she knew, unable to dare moving it to the nearest Dragon Reservation until the cover of nightfall. She contemplated trying to find them out, but they could be anywhere, really, scouting any of dozens of caves along the shore. For that matter, she knew from experience it wasn't good sense to sneak up on someone while they were managing a _dragon_.

“Mr. Prewett?” she heard herself call, the older man turning to raise an eyebrow at her. Tina stepped forward, offering him a half-hearted smile. “You need another Obliviator?”

* * *

It was a half hour before her husband reappeared, Tina sitting in the sand with her knees bent and arms around them as she mulled over her thoughts.

“So sorry about that, Tina.”

She smiled, lifting a hand to block the sun from her eyes as she glanced up at the gingerish wizard hovering over her. His coat looked utterly out of place on the Muggle beach.

“I just wanted to get started right away,” he continued, as she climbed to her feet. “I didn't mean to not check in-”

She cut him off, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Hey,” she said brightly, kissing his cheek. “There you are.” Newt smiled half-heartedly, averting his eyes. “Did you see it? Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” he assured her. “No, I didn't see it.”

“They moved it already?” She frowned, trying to drown out the sounds of a pair of spirited No-Maj children building a sandcastle a few feet away.

“They lost it.”

She turned back to stare at him, his words dawning slowly. “ _What_?!”

“The Tokes were so preoccupied with stopping the Muggles from leaving, they didn't -”

“But h-” She swallowed, steeling her resolve. She grasped the elbow of his coat, yanking him out of earshot of any curious eavesdroppers. “How do you _lose_ a dragon?” she hissed incredulously, taking a step closer to him.

“Well, it flew away,” he said patiently. Tina groaned, shaking her head.

“No. No...I knew this seemed too simple, I knew it couldn't really be this easy.”

“Yes, I'm worried too.” The extent of this statement was clear, Newt's eyes cloudy as they darted around the beach.

“Ohhh, this is so incredibly balled up!” She closed her eyes, her face contorted with tension.

“I don't think it got far. They'd injured it.”

It took her a moment to process this too. Tina felt a gnawing of concern edging at her, looking at him sympathetically.

“How did they-?”

“I'm really not sure. Conjunctive Jinxes and Stunners, they say, but I don't know how only 5 wizards could have even slowed a dragon, even a calf, not if it was old enough to fly...but they swear they disoriented her, she was flying much slower than she ought to have been, and she was swaying oddly, by the sounds of it.”

“So you think it...?” Tina's voice drifted off, as she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“There are more caves farther down the beach, I think there's a good chance it might have hidden out,” Newt explained. “We've broken off into teams, trying to find the poor thing.”

She bit her tongue, refraining from mentioning that the 'poor thing' had been eyeing a Muggle child before it flew off. Apparently sensing her apprehension, Newt sighed, moving his gaze back to focus on her. “You'll note it didn't actually _hurt_ _**anyone**_ – despite no doubt being terrified. Which, incidentally, is typical of its breed-”

“It's still a _dragon_ , Newt-” She smiled affectionately, sighing with exasperation.

“Really darling, Welsh Greens are relatively docile-”

Tina's eyebrows shot up, and Newt took a step backward. “Alright,” he admitted, putting his hands up with a small smile. “I'm telling you, though, its behavior was uncharacteristic from the _moment_ it appeared, it shouldn't have went near those people at all-”

Tina paused, hurrying to catch his train of thought. “...Do you think it might have been _sick_? Or injured? And that was causing the heightened aggression and the skewed flying-?”

“I suppose it's _possible_. How, though, is another matter altogether.” A crease appeared in his forehead. Tina nodded, ruminating on this for a moment.

“Okay,” she exhaled, giving him a rueful smile. “Well...do you need any help trying to track it down?”

Newt looked at her wistfully, and she smiled, letting herself have a moment with him before accepting his offered hand, allowing him to guide her back into the sunshine.

 


	3. A Missing Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is 1932, and a dragon has just swooped over a beach full of sunbathing Muggles in Ilfracombe before flying off again. Newt and Tina must search quickly for the missing creature, believed to be injured, before it can cause any more damage to itself or the Wizarding world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short aftermath of the previous chapter. Stay tuned for upcoming fluff and intrigue, there are great things ahead. ;)

As their third hour of searching wore on, Tina had started to bear evidence of her efforts, her hair now limp from sweat and sea spray. By the fourth hour, she thought her spirits might have taken a turn for the worse as well, though she kept a determined face for her husband's sake. Newt, for his part, seemed only to grow more invigorated as the afternoon stretched on, his energy infectious as he lead their team of four.

Their steps echoed eerily as they sloshed across the damp ground, Tina keeping her eyes peeled for the slightest sign of movement as they crept deeper into the cave. A sudden scurrying made her jump, turning quickly to shed the light of her wand on it, but it was only a salamander.

“I think this one's another dead end, mate.” It was one of Newt's colleagues who spoke, a broad-shouldered wizard called Ascalaphus Alderton. He turned in a slow circle, illuminating the dark cave with his raised wand. “She must've done a runner. Could well be in Cardiff by now.” He sighed, turning again, his black hair and pale face falling back into the shadows.

“Something's been here,” Tina said shrewdly, frowning intently as she continued to scan the stone floors. “It smells like burned meat.”

“You're right,” Newt breathed, throwing her an admiring look from a few feet away. He stepped forward, his own wandtip lit. “Look at that. There's a bit of bone over here...”

“Human?” Alderton asked sharply.

“No, it's too small – besides, there's no blood...I think it's from a bird,” Newt murmured, examining it closely. Tina frowned, joining him.

“Oi, come take a look at this.” Francis Belby, a young blonde wizard still only in his early 20s, beckoned them over. The three of them turned. “How far in do you reckon this stretches?” he continued quietly, craning his head down the tunnel of darkness beyond.

“...Far enough we best not stick our _neck_ in to see if there's a dragon waiting for us,” Newt said gently, holding back his smile as he guided the younger man back toward him by the shoulder.

“You're the expert,” Belby grinned. “Should we call for backup?”

“Not yet, just be ready to Apparate,” Newt said bracingly. He lifted his wand, pointing it down the black tunnel. “ _Lumos Maxima!”_

The light stretched as far as they could see, illuminating only bare walls and algae. Newt grimaced, his eyes searching fruitlessly.

“She might've moved, if she heard us coming,” Belby suggested, glancing at Newt.

“Or she could have left hours ago,” Alderton said gently, shaking his head. “I know that lot thought she seemed injured, but you know as well as I do, Newt, these creatures don't exactly have a long recovery period. As it is, she must have been awfully eager to get away – and if she was panicking, she might have risked it, even if she was still in pain.”

Newt sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. Tina's heart broke a little, spotting the worry clouding his deep green eyes. “I'm going to keep looking,” he said firmly, turning back toward the mouth of the cave. Tina smiled to herself, joining him in silence.

“Any luck?” Elsie Fenwick, the witch assigned to keep lookout by the outskirts of the cave, glanced up as they reappeared into the afternoon sun.

“Maybe. There's evidence it was here, anyway,” Newt nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon.

“I spotted another string of caves hidden just over that cliffside,” Elsie suggested, tipping her head to indicate further west. “They looked big enough - ”

“Come on, then,” Newt nodded, stumbling a bit as he skidded across some of the pebbles lining the cliff bed. Tina grabbed the back of his coat, dragging him the other way without a second glance. He smiled sheepishly.

It was another half hour before they made their discovery, the cave damp and slippery as the Scamanders pattered their way in, Alderton and Belby hanging back a few feet from sheer exhaustion. Newt put up a fist, signaling them into silence.

Tina held her breath, an unmistakable outline just discernible from the shadows up ahead. Smoke curled forth from the darkness, hot as it brushed against her skin. _Steam._

Next to her, she could sense Belby digging into his pocket, in pursuit of the token that would Summon the rest of their teammates to their side.

A few soft _pops_ rang through the air, and Tina tensed, her wand held tight against her palm as a dozen ghostly figures sprang into existence in the shadows around her. The creature before them didn't so much as stir.

There was a deathly silence as they fell into line, thirteen witches and wizards slowly inching forward, ready to hurl Stunners at the signal.

“...Wait,” Newt breathed.

The others stood silent, frozen in attack position, as he peered into the darkness. “ _Lumos Maxima_ ,” he murmured.

Light spread throughout the cave, the beast sprawled across the floor suddenly thrown into sharp relief.

It was enormous, though not nearly as large as she'd expected. Perhaps eleven or twelve feet long, the creature was awake, but currently lying flat on its stomach, its arms and legs bent underneath.

Its scales were a paler shade of green than those Tina was accustomed to from her time visiting Newt at the nearest dragon reservation, and she noticed a yellowish tinge she'd never seen before. It snorted; wisps of smoke rose into the air, swirling into spirals.

Newt took a tentative step forward, his wand still held high at the ready.

“It's - it's just a _baby_ ,” he whispered, his forehead creasing.

Tina couldn't help noticing Fenwick and Buchanan exchanging a glance at this remark, and was inclined to agree with them (a 12-feet-long lizard with steam coming out of its nose and a razor-sharp tail didn't fit any definition of 'baby' _she'd_ ever learned), but the expression on her husband's face kept her from commenting. She turned her attention back to the creature before them, her eyes taking in its oddly still form.

“...It's hurt,” she said softly, walking forward to join him. “Or – sick?” she questioned, her hand brushing his.

Newt wasn't an idiot, he'd kept his distance from the unknown predator, but it was with a gentle expression that he considered the creature in front of him. It was breathing slowly, its eyes red and bloodshot. Tina winced, her heart aching. She'd sensed immediately something was wrong, even without Newt's swallow beside her.

“I'm not sure,” Newt murmured. “Both, possibly.”

At this, the dragon huffed, another wisp of smoke rising from its snout as it gazed at them wearily. Newt sighed, considering it.

“We need to restrain her. Let's try just a few of us Stunning it for now, I don't think she -” He frowned, suppressing the lump in his throat. “Tina, Francis, Bridget – you take the left flank. Graham, Elsie – from the right, with me. The rest of you stay put, we'll add more wands one at a time if we need to... The state it's in though, all of us at once would probably _kill_ it.” His voice was angry, his eyes fixed on the ailing creature. Tina found his hand, squeezing it.

“...Are you ready?” she asked softly, glancing around. Twelve sets of eyes gazed back at her. She repositioned her wand.

“ _Stupefy.”_

Six voices rang out in tandem, red sparks shooting out from all sides. As it turned out, that _was_ all that was needed, either illness or injury having run its course – the dragon slumped forward, apparently asleep.

Newt crouched down immediately, rummaging in his coat. She recognized the bottle of dittany, watching in silence as he tipped it into the dragon's mouth. His hand was steady, but she could see the beads of sweat on his forehead as he fretted.

“She'll be all right, Newt.” It was Cal Alderton who'd spoken up, his normally deep voice surprisingly gentle. Next to him, Elsie Fenwick nodded, her eyes sympathetic. Newt ducked his head, avoiding their gazes.

“Yes,” he breathed, stroking the dragon's snout. Tina knelt next to him, her fingers joining his to massage the creature's cheek.

“...She's beautiful,” she said quietly, her eyes feeling suddenly damp.  
“She's very sick,” Newt said softly, sniffling slightly as he continued stroking. She didn't reply, simply finding his other hand again and squeezing it gently. Newt glanced at her, his eyes full of love, though for whom exactly she wasn't sure. Tina smiled at the thought.

“...You all can go home, I suppose,” Newt said softly, gazing at the crowd still amassed behind them. “I'll need you back here tonight, to help move her, but it won't be dark enough until about ten. No sense all of us waiting about.”

The other dragonologists exchanged glances amongst themselves at this remark, but one-by-one they dispersed, each of them coming in turn to touch Newt's shoulder before Disapparating.

“Good luck, Newt,” Elsie said softly, squeezing his arm. “She'll be in fighting form again in no time, not to worry.”

He smiled back hazily, his eyes glistening, and Tina was silent as she waited for the rest of them to leave.

“Are you all right?” she asked quietly, after they were alone in the cave.

“You can go home too, if you like.” He smiled ruefully at her. Tina shook her head. Her fingers were still weaved through his as she lowered herself into a more comfortable position.

“I'm not going anywhere,” she assured him, her eyes firm on his. Newt sighed, swallowing another sniffle as he kissed her forehead.

* * *

“Come on, Newt, you need to eat.”

“Give me a few minutes,” he said softly, his hands massaging the dragon's sickly green scales.

Tina shrugged, eyeing him intently. “Well, I'm not going to eat until _you_ do,” she said lightly, leaning against the wall of the cave.

He sighed, reluctantly stepping away from the still sleeping dragon. It was now restrained, though Newt privately thought it was more for its own protection than theirs. The Stunning should have worn off already, especially given how weakly it'd been enforced in the first place. His worry was written on every line of his face.

Tina considered him, a crease in her forehead. “Look, _sandwiches,_ ” she added, patting the spot next to her. “Jacob baked the bread.” She smiled tantalizingly, waving it for him to see from where she sat cross-legged on the navy blue pillow she'd conjured nearly an hour before.

He managed to return the smile. Since moving to France three years ago, his brother-in-law's bakery had expanded, now featuring all sorts of baked goods in addition to those custom creature-themed treats he'd first developed in New York. It was doing quite well, managing to withstand even the economic downturn that had pummeled America and Europe alike - though of course, Queenie's ability to multiply the food (both for sale and for donations) certainly helped on that front.

“Alright then,” he sighed, flashing her a feeble smile. She smirked back at him, holding out a plate. Taking it into his hand, he conjured a simple wooden stool, sitting himself a few feet away. “Thank you,” he added.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Tina's wide, intelligent brown eyes studying him with some concern. For his part, Newt remain focused on his food, his expression sober and engrossed as he chipped away at it.

“...So what have you found out?” she asked, after a suitable amount of time had passed, gesturing to the creature still sprawled across the floor.

Newt swallowed, glancing at her before gazing at the ground. “Not much, I'm afraid.” He frowned. “She doesn't seem to be actively in pain - except for her eyes, anyway, before I fixed them up - but she's very weak.”

“Maybe recovering from an injury?” Tina guessed, her gaze turning back to the creature.

“It's possible. Could have been outed from her herd - dominant females will sometimes do that, you know – though why there wouldn't be external damage visible if she were still suffering the effects of an attack, I couldn't say.”

“...What about a curse?” Tina asked, frowning. “Maybe one of the Tokes tried something more serious trying to subdue it, but didn't want to admit to knowing such a spell-”

Newt shook his head, his expression troubled. “No single curse could do this,” he said softly. “I doubt even an Unforgivable could get through that hide, and very few jinxes are actually effective against them, even in larger numbers.”

Tina paused, stumped. She let her thoughts wander as she curled her legs up, hugging them to her chest as she studied the creature before them. Newt fell quiet, setting down the empty plate before returning to the beast's side. He sighed sadly, stroking gently at her long neck. “...I suspect she's ill,” he said quietly. “Though I've never seen anything like this.”

Tina frowned, standing and joining him on the damp cave floor.

“How old do you think she is?” Tina asked softly, stroking the dragon's jaw.

“About nine months, judging from her size.”

“I thought they didn't start flying until their first year?” she glanced at him.

“Some start a bit earlier, just like with humans,” he shrugged, smiling a little that she'd remembered this tidbit of information.

“I see,” Tina said assertively, turning back to the creature. “So you're a _smart_ girl, ahead of the curve,” she added softly, smiling at the dragon as it slowly opened one eye to consider her. Newt smiled again, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“...Strong, too, to mature so fast,” she continued, meeting the creature's gaze. “I'll bet you'll be feeling good as new in no time, won't you?”

“Thank you,” Newt said softly, his hand on her leg. She simply gazed at him, her expression earnest. He couldn't resist; he leaned forward, kissing her gently over the dragon's snout. The warmth that flooded through him had nothing to do with the rising steam.

“Truly, Tina. Thank you,” he murmured, gazing into her eyes. His body tingled with the aftermath of her kiss. “Just...for staying here with me. I'm not sure what I did to deserve you.”

Tina chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh Newt...” she sighed, smirking affectionately. “I love you, you know, but you can be a real idiot.”

He blushed, grinning at her. “So I'm told,” he agreed.

She kissed him again, on the nose this time, just a quick peck before turning her attention back to the creature in need of their care.

“It's alright, sweetie,” she said soothingly. “Dad here will take care of you.”

“Ah, so this is one of mine now, is it?” he smiled.

Tina eyed him pointedly. “Don't get excited, Mister,” she said wryly. “We are _not_ keeping it.”

 


	4. Reservations at the Reservation

Newt's thick flame-retardant boots echoed along the halls of the Ministry, the brightly-colored protective clothing he still wore standing out a bit amongst the throng of Ministry employees. He paid the amused glances little mind, long-accustomed to them by now. Besides, he had more important things to dwell on.

He'd had a long morning, one that had left his normally bright spirits wanting. He'd spent the past several hours dodging half-hearted claw swipes, doing his best to prod the little dragon to eat. It was a tremendous expenditure of energy, but far more exhausting was the emotional impact – he was _worried_ , something he rarely permitted himself to do _._

It was true, of course, that creatures often hesitated to eat when placed in unknown situations or while under stress, but Newt had never known a _dragon_ to be susceptible to such behavior – and for that matter, he'd spent enough time around creatures to know reluctance to eat was _never_ a good sign.

What had seemed to be a fairly routine dragon rescue (however dramatic the circumstances behind its discovery) was rapidly devolving into something...else.

He'd been working with dragons for over half his life, but never had he encountered such a bewildering condition. Even those who had been working with dragons full-time for decades, the senior members of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau who had specialized in the care of Common Welsh Greens, were flummoxed at its appearance.

The dragon had been placed in quarantine, its thick hide poked and prodded to draw blood and scale samples, but the preliminary tests had all been negative, and it would be days before it would be safe to even begin searching for additional causes. Newt was at a loss to explain how she'd had the strength to cross the Channel in the first place, and could only assume that she'd made the journey prior to falling ill, and simply stayed close to the shore in the time since. The whole thing left him with a bad taste in his mouth, and a heavy feeling in his stomach.

Still, he had an idea of what might lift his spirits, and with that in mind, he set off for Level 2, a tentative smile lighting up his face, and his hand clutching a bag from a certain French bakery.

He found his wife looking exactly as he'd expected, a fatigued-looking figure standing hunched over her desk as she shuffled through papers. Even with a drawn expression and bags under her eyes, he couldn't help thinking she looked lovely.

Newt smiled, watching her as she drummed her fingers on the table. She hadn't noticed him yet. “Hello there,” he said finally, taking a few steps closer, slipping into her cubicle. “Might a beautiful young witch allow herself to be distracted by an ardent admirer today?”

She smiled tiredly, looking up at him over her desk.

“That depends. Did this ardent admirer bring coffee?” she asked hopefully.

Newt smiled, showing her the cup.

“My hero,” she sighed, taking a long sip.

He flashed a quick smile, embarrassed but pleased, then raised his eyebrows, hovering over the desk as he glanced at her piles of paperwork. “Working on anything interesting?”

“Oh, you know – death, destruction, the usual,” she said dryly, sighing. Newt looked at her sympathetically. “-Actually, I keep thinking back to our friend,” she said lightly, sliding into her chair. “She's been butting into my thoughts all morning,” she admitted, smiling wryly.

Newt smiled sadly, considering her. “Would you like to see her?” he asked, his gaze inquisitive.

Tina smiled, flipping open one of the dozens of thick binders filed neatly along her cubicle wall.

“I would love to,” she said wistfully. “Unfortunately, I'm swamped here...raincheck?”

Newt smirked, glancing at her from his overgrown bangs. “As luck would have it, I'm headed back there tomorrow,” he said lightly. “And the next day, and the next day, and so on.” He gave her his best boyish grin. Tina sighed, smiling back in spite of herself.

“I'll try to make it sometime later this week,” she nodded, chuckling softly.

“Excellent. I'm sure Winnie will be pleased to see you.” Newt grinned innocently.

“ _Winnie?_ ” Tina repeated, raising her eyebrows. She choked back a laugh.

“Winifred,” Newt said helpfully. Tina sighed, trying not to smile.

“...How's she doing?” she asked softly, after a moment.

Newt hesitated before replying, seating himself in one of the two guest chairs crammed in her tiny cubicle. “Unfortunately, I think she's in for a longer recovery than I'd first hoped,” he admitted. Tina frowned sympathetically. “Yes,” Newt sighed. “She's a real mystery, it seems...And I was wrong,” he added unhappily.

Tina's brow furrowed, tipping her head slightly to get a better look at him. “How do you mean?”

“When I estimated her age. I was wrong.” He glanced up at her, his expression a tapestry of concern and dismay.

She surveyed him curiously. “How do you know?”

Newt grimaced, pulling a photo out of his pocket. “Here.” He slid it over to her. “Take a look.”

She glanced down, instinctively pushing back her chair at the sight of the dragon's gnashing teeth, saliva dripping from its jaws.

“Sorry.” Newt tried to hide his smirk, glancing up at her sheepishly.

Tina gave him a look of mild annoyance, before turning her attention back to the photograph. “What am I looking at?” she swallowed, glancing at him wearily.

“See these molars?” Newt tapped the photo with his finger, gesturing to two of the less-pointed (though still quite lethal-looking) fangs lining the back of the dragon's mouth. Choosing not to dwell on the mental image of her husband being close enough to take such a picture in the first place, Tina looked up, raising her eyebrows.

“What about them?”

Newt glanced at her, his tone growing more serious. “They're called _dorsal teeth_. They don't grow in until the dragon reaches adolescence, usually at about 14 months. She is _considerably_ older than I estimated.”

“Fourteen months?” Tina repeated, frowning as she mulled over the photo. “Then why is she so small? Malnutrition?”

“Perhaps,” Newt nodded slightly, his gaze intent as he considered the photograph. “Of course, it _could_ be some sort of hormonal disorder, or just genetics – but -” He frowned, looking askance for a moment. “I just – combined with the discoloration, and the fatigue, and the injuries-”

“You suspect malnutrition,” she nodded, meeting his gaze sympathetically.

“At the very least,” Newt murmured, looking distressed.

Tina was quiet for a minute, lost in thought as she ran her hand over the picture still lying on her desk. “Maybe she was being bullied in her colony?” She suggested. “That'd explain why she ran away.”

Newt nodded, looking conflicted. “If that were true though, she should have started recovering already. Once she was away from her tormentor, she'd be able to find food on her own, get her strength back...but she's not interested in food.”

“She's not eating?” Tina whispered, meeting his eyes. Newt shook his head, exhaling quietly. Tina frowned, studying him intently. “You're really worried,” she said softly.

“It's...disconcerting,” he admitted.

She reached across, squeezing his hand. “Can I come visit her tomorrow on my lunch hour?”

He looked up, his eyes full of love. “...Yes.”

She smiled at him. “Well, she does have _one_ good thing going for her,” she pointed out, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

“What's that?” Newt smiled offhand.

She sighed, looking at him affectionately. “She couldn't have anyone better looking out for her.”

He blushed, his eyes shining.

* * *

Newt stood with his hand on Tina's back, watching from the entrance. The dragon was being kept in a private enclosure, far larger than a cage – more of an oversized _pen_ , the dragonologists choosing to utilize magical boundaries rather than employ actual fencing.

She looked remarkably like he'd left her, sprawled across the ground without even the semblance of an opinion on her surroundings. Despite her condition, Tina thought there was still something magnificent about her, her gigantic body gleaming in the sunlight, several tons of muscle and armor, her wings fluttering with a certain grace from her supine position. Even from a distance, though, she could recognize the signs of her dilemma, her eyes carefully honed from Newt's years working with dragons. She swallowed, taking in the sight.

Her scales, which should have been hard as steel, were soft and sinewy, like bones that had turned rubbery. She glanced up at them with pale yellow eyes from across the enclosure, her gaze barely flickering their way before settling back to stare vaguely into the distance.

For her part, Tina was bracing, striding carefully up to join her on her chosen patch of grass.

Newt marveled at her bravery, despite the loose chains that automatically sprang into action upon any human's entrance into the enclosure. He regretted that they were necessary, especially considering the dragon's fragile state, but the creature had already caused a nasty gash in one of his colleagues the evening before, and seemed to be growing no less weary of human company. The mild exception seemed to be Newt, who she begrudgingly allowed to enter her pen without growling, and Tina, who she'd apparently taken a liking to during the time waiting to be transported.

“Hi, there, Winnie,” Tina said gently, her steps slow and deliberate as she carefully closed the distance between them. The dragon raised her head a few inches at her approach, moaning pitifully. Tina forced a smile, finally crouching next to her. “There's my girl,” Tina murmured, stroking her neck. “Remember me?”

The creature managed a weak sputter, what might have been a feeble attempt at a roar. She thought there was something almost musical about it. “That's _right,_ ” Tina said playfully, nodding encouragingly as she continued to stroke the scaly skin. “I'm Tina.”

Newt smiled, his heart swelling.

“How are you feeling today?” Tina continued, her tone conversational. “Are you hungry? It's lunchtime, you know.”

The dragon gazed at her blankly, her mouth opening to reveal teeth the size of milk bottles as she yawned. Newt joined them, lying a large bucket of lamb chops on its side, well in reach of her.

“Do you want to try and eat for me?” Tina asked softly. Winifred glanced at her, her claws digging into the dirt. Tina reached into the bucket, pulling out a drumstick.

“It's good, you want to see?” she asked quietly, ripping off a bit of meat and trying it. “Yummy.”

The dragon considered her curiously, and Newt grasped his wand a little tighter, but Winifred simply turned to the bucket, sniffing mildly.

“You want to try some?” Tina asked encouragingly.

Winifred paused, her tongue darting out almost like a snake's. She scooped one of the morsels into her mouth, taking small, tentative bites.

“Good girl,” Tina said approvingly, her voice almost like a song. The Scamanders were quiet as Winnie ate through half of the bucket, finally turning away with disinterest.

“That was quite impressive,” Newt said admiringly, his hand resting on the small of his wife's back. She smiled, watching as Winnie picked at a piece of meat in her teeth with one particularly long claw. The dragon stood, stretching her wings. Sheer force of will kept Tina from stepping back.

“Good, Tina. Always calm,” Newt said soothingly. She found his hand, squeezing it. They watched in silence as Winnie crept away, the magical chains extending when she headed in a direction opposite any humans in the enclosure.

“How was she at breakfast?” she asked softly.

“Wouldn't eat a thing,” Newt said glumly, digging his boot into the dirt. “If I just knew what the _problem_ was,” he murmured, sounding frustrated.

Tina paused, her gaze still on the creature moving lethargically toward the meadow beyond. She turned to him slowly.

“I have an idea.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really happy with this chapter or the next one, tbh, but they were holding me up and I wanted to push through to my fluff. Sorry if it drags a bit in the meantime. D:


	5. Reading Into It

It'd been far too long since both Goldstein sisters had sat in a room together, their laughter ringing through the sunbathed kitchen. Queenie sat at the end of the table, no less radiant after three children and more than half a decade than she'd been when the two women had first met the men who would eventually become their husbands.

“And she's _obsessed_ with learning her letters, she's pretty much got 'em down,” Queenie said proudly.

“Already?” Tina grinned. Queenie nodded, positively glowing.

“You shoulda been there the other day, though, it was a riot...Jacob was testing her, and all of a sudden she started listing them as the French alphabet instead...we weren't sure if we oughta correct her or not,” Queenie giggled.

“Oh, I didn't even think of that,” Tina murmured, leaning forward, her chin resting on her fist.

“That must be interesting, raising her fully bilingual,” Newt commented, from where he stood pouring himself a second cup of tea. “I didn't start learning French until I was about five, as I recall.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Queenie shook her head. “Jacob wants them to know Polish, and we both want them to know at least a little Hebrew, but it seems so much-”

“Now's the time to do it, though,” Tina said thoughtfully, and Queenie nodded, her tea stirring itself on the table in front of them.

“How is she adjusting to the new baby brothers?” Newt asked curiously, rejoining them at the table. Queenie beamed.

“She _adores_ them. Here, I brought a picture-”

Tina and Newt both bent their heads to get a better look, fawning over the photograph. Spread on a blanket on the floor were two identical two-month-olds, both with a head full of dark hair. They were laying flat on their stomachs, practicing lifting their heads, making them look like little turtles. Tina laughed. Around them, looking immensely proud, pranced a blonde toddler, her curls bouncing as she moved. Tina watched as she bent down, clapping happily, then gently rubbed one of the babies' head, clearly mouthing the word “BROTHER” and laughing.

“That's precious,” she murmured. Next to her, Newt grinned, looking amused.

“They're absolutely beautiful,” he agreed.

“What about you two?” Queenie smirked, raising her eyebrows. “When do you think they can expect a playmate cousin?”

Newt glanced at his wife quickly, trying to contain his hopeful smile.

Tina laughed. “Awhile, I imagine,” she said dryly. Newt hastened to nod beside her, his expression politely blank again.

“ _Why,_ honey _?”_ Queenie set down her tea, frowning. “I know you want 'em-”

Tina shrugged noncommittally, still trying to laugh it off. “I don't know. Work's just been so busy lately, I haven't even thought about it-”

“You gotta make time for _yourself_ , Teenie,” Queenie said softly. “You always give so much of yourself away, and it's _wonderful_ , but you gotta keep something for your own, you know? And that goes for both before and after you become a mother.”

Tina gave her a warning look, and Newt cleared his throat. “Perhaps this a conversation better suited for another time,” he said gently, taking a long swallow from his still-hot tea. He glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall. “It's getting late,” he added, setting down his empty mug. “Are we all ready?”

* * *

The sun was setting over the Cambrian Mountains, creating a spectacular view as the trio made their way across the grassy Welsh valley.

“I have to admit, I was a bit surprised when Tina first suggested this,” Newt said conversationally, a slight step ahead as Queenie and Tina brought up the rear.

“Well like I told ya, it's a long shot,” Queenie admitted, looking hesitant. She looked phenomenally out of place in her long pink jacket, her heels charmed to keep from sinking into the dirt.

“...I didn't even realize you _could_ read creatures,” Newt continued curiously, glancing her way.

“It's only happened a coupla times,” Queenie explained, biting her lip. “There was a kneazle we had growin' up, I could read her alright, if I _tried_ hard enough – and every now and then I get somethin' off Dougal.”

“Off _Dougal_?” Newt repeated, startled.

Queenie smirked, but held her peace, pushing forward with her point. “I'm just warnin' ya – I'm not sure if this is gonna work.”

“It's worth a try, though,” Tina said staunchly, and Queenie smiled wistfully.

“Of _course_ I'll try,” she assured her, squeezing her sister's hand.

“It's just over this hill,” Newt commented, pointing ahead. Queenie chattered the whole rest of the way, Tina laughing occasionally in response to her cheerful observations. The two settled down as they started to ascend the hill, the only sound a faint roaring in the distance from one of the other inhabitants.

After two years of marriage and nearly six years of friendship with a dedicated employee of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau, Tina had grown fairly used to the presence of these incredible beasts; still, she couldn't really blame her sister for halting in her steps, an involuntary gasp escaping as the creature came into view.

“Mercy Lewis,” she whispered.

“Incredible, isn't she?” Tina said affectionately, smiling up at the dragon.

“ _That's_ what landed on a beach full of No-Majs last week?” Queenie breathed, a lump forming in her throat.

“Well, swooped over, really,” Newt said lightly, approaching the creature without a second's hesitation. Queenie swallowed, staring.

“And she's _sick_ ,” Tina reminded her, her hand on her sister's arm. “That's why I thought this might have a real shot at working,” she added quietly. “...You always said people were easiest to read when they were hurting.”

Queenie frowned, taking a tentative step forward.

Winnie had been hovering about 10 feet off the ground when they arrived, her wings fluttering lazily around her in the evening breeze. She descended gradually at their approach, taking a half-hearted snap as Newt met her gaze.

“Hello to you too,” he said wryly, shaking his head.

Winnie spread out across the ground, nose poking at the still sizable pile of meat intended to be her dinner. Stretching her wings again before folding them back in, she settled down a few feet from a half dozen bones littering the nearby grass. Queenie stared.

“She's so _big_ ,” she said softly, the edge of fear in her voice unmistakable.

“She won't hurt you,” Newt said gently, his expression troubled. “Common Welsh Greens are a notably docile breed.  And this particular Green - well, she's proven to be...by _far_ our easiest charge since she arrived. Though I wouldn't quite classify that as a positive thing.” He frowned unhappily.

“She's in bad shape,” Queenie said weakly, her eyes narrowing in on the creature in concentration.

“You can pick up on that?” Tina asked hopefully, her hand squeezing her sister's.

Queenie smiled ruefully, sparing her a glance. “I don't need Legilimency to tell she's not doin' well, honey,” she said gently.

Tina nodded, sighing as she turned back to the massive creature before them.

“Can you hear anything?” Newt asked curiously, a bit fascinated in spite of himself.

“I -” Queenie frowned, trying to work out how to explain it. “It's different, with animals, you know? I gotta _try_ a lot harder to get things, they don't just pop inta my head like with people. And I don't get – _thoughts_ from them, exactly,” she said carefully, biting her lip. “Sorta – _feelings_ , I guess you'd call 'em. It's hard to explain. They don't always line up nice and neat with the way people feel things.”

“I see,” Newt said thoughtfully.

“And I get...like that time with Dougal,” she said slowly, tipping her head as she stared at the dragon. “I can get sorta - flashes. You know, like memories. That's different too, though. I see it like they did, you know, and my head can't quite – it's not meant to decipher things the way they can.”

“How do you mean?” Newt looked curious, and more than a little confused.

“Well – like with _her_ ,” Queenie said softly, her forehead creased in concentration. “I'm trying to get in and all, and I can see _something_ , but it's hard...she see things sharper than we do, and I can't really process it. And it's like – a picture, I guess. She doesn't see colors like we do. And it's all just a jumble – her memories, her emotions...”

“Take your time,” Newt said gently. “Just...keep _trying_ , though. Please.” He swallowed.

Queenie nodded, taking a few cautious steps forward. Winnie snorted, considering her for a moment, then went back to nibbling on a leftover morsel.

“She's weak,” Queenie said softly, her expression contorting into a frown. “And there's...pain...”

“Pain where?” Newt prodded gently. “Can you make it out?”

“It's _everywhere_ ,” Queenie said tearfully, clutching Teenie's hand instinctively. Her voice fell to a whisper, her curls bouncing as she shook her head a little. “It's...down to the bone. It's all she's ever known, all she can remember.” She paused, her voice breaking. “She doesn't want to hurt no more.”

Newt frowned, his distress clear. “Perhaps some sort of birth defect, a congenital disorder-” he said quietly.

Queenie interrupted, her voice low and breathy. “There was – a man, but I can't make him out.”

“A man? Are you sure?” Newt sounded perplexed.

“When she hatched. His robes have – stars - embroidered all along the cuffs.”

“She was trafficked,” Tina breathed. Newt was shaking with barely suppressed anger now, swallowing heavily. “She must have escaped, flew off the first opportunity she got and just kept going...”

Queenie frowned, but didn't contradict her. A tear was threatening to burst loose from Tina's face.

“I'm sorry, I can't-” Queenie shivered, clutching her arms across her chest.

“Don't hurt yourself,” Tina said quickly, eyes widening a little.

“Her muscles burn,” Queenie muttered.

“Hey. Come on, take a step back.”

Queenie blinked, frowning at her. “I wanna help her,” she said slowly.

“And you have,” Newt said sweetly. “You've been so helpful, Queenie,” he continued, looking at her gratefully. “I can't say I really understand how yet, but you may have just saved her life.”

Queenie nodded, giving him a small smile. “Okay.”

“Let's go home, okay?” Tina said soothingly, touching her shoulder. “I'll make you some cocoa.”

“I'm alright,” Queenie smiled at her. “Let's go though.”

They swept away into Nothingness, landing on the outskirts of their cottage.

“Are you okay?” Tina asked, spotting Newt's expression in the evening light.

He paused, gazing into the distance. “I still don't understand,” he admitted, his tone frustrated. “Even if the trafficker didn't know what they were doing, what to feed it – dragons are - _incredibl_ y resilient. As long as he fed her - anything at all, _biscuits and weak tea,_ she still ought to be twice as heavy as she is now.”

Tina frowned, thinking hard. “Well – we'll figure it out. She's gonna be okay, Newt.”

Only Queenie could hear his response, though he kept it to himself. _I do hope you're right._ She rubbed her arms, despite the warm evening.

“If you'll excuse me, I still need to finish up my evening rounds,” he said softly, his expression still troubled. Tina offered him a wan smile, watching him go.

“Hey,” Tina said gently, turning in time to see her sister's troubled expression. “Are you okay?” She frowned. “That really took a lot out of you, didn't it?” she added softly.

Queenie managed a reluctant smile. “It's always rough. Feeling so much suffering...I think she suffered something awful.”

Tina frowned, and Queenie squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Cheer up, Teenie. Newt'll take care of her!” She paused for a moment, glancing at her sister. “...Hey Teenie?” she whispered, pulling her back for a moment as Newt went on ahead. “Are _you_ okay?”

“I'm fine,” Tina laughed, shaking her head.

“I don't know, I just – think about what I said earlier. You're not takin' care of yourself. I worry, you know?”

“I know you do,” Tina said affectionately. “I'm fine though, I promise.”

Queenie eyed her skeptically.  "Newt's worried too, ya know.  He doesn't want you to get sick again."

"I'm _fine_ ," Tina repeated, her expression earnest.  “This is what I do, I work too much.” She shrugged, smiling reassuringly. “Now I've just got a heroic reason for it,” she teased. Queenie pursed her lips disapprovingly, and Tina rolled her eyes. “Did you want to stay for dinner?” she added, touching her sister's arm. Queenie smiled, shaking her head.

“I wish I could, sweetie. I gotta be getting back - I pumped this morning, but I don't like leaving 'em too long.”

“We should all have dinner together sometime next week!” Tina urged, her face lighting up. “Bring the whole family, we'd love to see them. You know how much Rory loves playing on the farm.”

“That sounds real nice, Teenie, I'll bring it up to Jacob.” Queenie nodded with a smile. She considered her sister for a moment before adding, “...It was real good seein' ya.”

“Yeah, it was,” Tina said softly, smiling.

“I don't think I'll ever get used to not seeing you every day,” Queenie said quietly, smiling bittersweetly.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Tina answered, biting back a smirk. Queenie giggled, pulling her in for a hug. “I love you,” she added.

“I love you too. I'll try really hard to come,” she added, smiling and waving as Tina watched her sister Apparate away.

* * *

She found Newt in the stables, brushing a Hippogriff in the corner.

“Hey there,” she said teasingly, and Newt smiled at her approach.

“Hello,” he said softly, turning his gaze back to the animal in front of him.

Tina bit her lip, her expression thoughtful as she moved slowly to stand behind him. Her hands found his tense shoulders, rubbing gently as she leaned in to press a kiss to the side of his head. Newt sighed at her touch.

“...What do you need from me?” she whispered, bending down to rest her chin on his shoulder, her arms draping across his chest. Newt ducked his head, inhaling deeply before turning to meet her eyes.

“Would you help me find the trafficker?” he asked hoarsely, blinking at the power of her gaze.

“Already on it,” she said lightly, smiling slyly. “I'll send an owl tonight.”

Newt closed his eyes, pressing the side of his head to hers. Tina's hands found his, his other hand still holding the brush, resting motionless on the hippogriff's flank.

“I'm going to get him,” she said softly, her tone somehow simultaneously matter-of-fact and reassuring, and Newt smiled, chuckling in spite of himself.

“Yes, I expect you will,” he answered, his eyes still closed.

She had the most incredible effect on him. He could be feeling depressed or anxious or self-conscious, and Tina would swoop in, with her gentle touch and fierce determination, and somehow everything would become a thousand times better. Always.

Newt was quiet, allowing her hands to continue traveling down his chest, smoothing over the stiff muscles.

“Why don't you come inside?” she murmured, kissing the spot under his ear. “The creatures are cared for, you've been taking care of creatures all day. Let me take care of you.” She planted another kiss on him, this time in the crook of his neck. “I'll make you some tea, just like your mom taught me, and we can curl up in bed and I'll read to you,” she said softly. Newt turned to look at her, his eyes wet.

“I love you,” he said thickly, and Tina's lips brushed his.

“I love you too,” she said softly. “Come on. I'll show you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said for the last update, I had some trouble with these two chapters, but hopefully they were still fun to read. (And how cute/sweet is Queenie????!!!) Anyway, I've got some really fun, funny, fluffy things planned for this story, which I think you'll enjoy, so stick with me. :) (BTW, you can read an extension of the ending [which contains smut] [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10703466/chapters/25328331) in my Explicit Outtakes story.)


	6. The Hog's Head

**Thursday, June 16, 1932**

Tina woke early the next morning, her muscles still humming with her satisfaction from the night before. She yawned, sitting up groggily as she blinked around the room. Newt was already awake, of course, probably halfway through feeding his creatures. She needed to get up, feed the kneazles, get the coffee started...

She laid her head back against the pillow. She'd been so _tired_ lately.

The next thing she was aware of was a gentle prodding at her shoulder, her husband's concerned voice interrupting her slumber.

“Tina? Darling? It's 8:35.”

She shot up, blinking hastily. “Damn,” she muttered, throwing the covers off herself.

“It's alright, you've still got plenty of time.”

She groaned, rolling out of bed. “You could've woken me up,” she mumbled, trying not to sound too accusatory.

Newt hesitated, holding back a smirk. “I believe I did. You told me to go away and called me, if I understood you correctly, a 'bluenose sap'.”

Tina blinked at him, stifling a yawn. “What?”

Newt smirked, kissing her forehead. “I made you coffee,” he added, gesturing to the cup on her nightstand. Tina sighed, kissing his cheek before swooping it up and heading toward the bathroom.

“You've had an owl,” he continued, waving a piece of parchment. Tina doubled back, grabbing it from his hand.

“Assuming I'm reading this half-literate piffle right,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. “We're on.”

* * *

Tina frowned, crouching low as her eyes skimmed the bar. Next to her, Newt stood with his back straight, stumbling for a moment when he was jostled by a broad-shouldered man donned in deep green robes. Tina nodded to herself as she scanned the place, her wand clutched safely in her fist. He wasn't here yet. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised; he was hardly known for being punctual.

Taking a step forward, Tina kept her eyes peeled, tapping her fingers on the bar as she slipped onto a stool. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. The smell here was intense, and made her feel slightly nauseous. The joint reeked of greasy food, sweat, and something that might have been goats.

“Scuse you. This is my seat.”

Tina glanced up. A burly-looking man in faded black robes was glaring at her, his mean lip curled into a snarl. Newt was quiet, observing the dirty counter with his eyebrows slightly raised. The corner of his mouth twitched for a moment, then stilled innocently.

“Oi,” the man continued, taking a bumbling step forward. “I'm talkin' to you. I said that's my seat.”

Tina eyed him beadily, her voice nonchalant. “So find another one.”

The oaf's hand was already fumbling clumsily at his pocket; Newt's hand flew to his side, but Tina was quicker.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!”_

He fell like a board, clattering across the stone floor. A layer of dust drifted up at the impact. Tina sighed, turning back in her stool.

Several pairs of eyes were on them now, though most were being covert about it, hands slipping to their pockets innocuously. Newt thought he heard someone whisper something which sounded suspiciously like “ _Auror_!”

The bar went quiet, the only sound that of one wizard rising unceremoniously, leaving hurriedly without so much as a word. Newt bit back a smirk. The auburn-haired bartender scowled at them.

Newt threw him his awkward smile. “Two Butterbeers, please,” he said softly, pushing a few coins across the counter.

The barman stomped away, muttering under his breath, and Newt turned to gaze serenely around the bar.

“Tina,” he whispered, after a moment. He gestured to a table in the corner, which was draped in shadows in the evening light. “Isn't that him?”

She turned, eyes narrowing to see better in the dark. “ _Yes_ ,” she groaned, grabbing her jacket from her lap.

“You could've come gotten us,” she scolded as she slid into the booth, shooting him a dirty look.

“I was 'njoyin' the show.” Vinovan Fletcher looked amused, taking a long sip from his glass of firewhisky. He was a rather small man, with a rather disproportionately large appetite for everything from gold to drink, neither of which he was particularly skilled at handling. He leaned forward, smiling at her with bloodshot eyes. “What can I 'elp you with today, lovely?”

Newt frowned at him, clearing his throat as he slid in next to his wife. Vinovan started, raising his eyebrows at the new arrival. “And _Misteh_ Scamandeh! You brought th' whole family today, love.” Newt grimaced, looking annoyed. Tina ignored the exchange, pressing forward.

“...Good evening, Vino,” she said calmly, her voice low as she greeted him with a smirk.

She paused, startled to suddenly feel Newt's hand resting lightly on her thigh, though his eyes were still fixed firmly on the man in front of them. She glanced at him quickly, confused for a moment, then recovered, realizing. The significance of the gesture amused her more than she would've expected it to, but she pushed on, fixing Vinovan with a intent stare. “Yes, the particular – merchandise – I was looking to discuss with you tonight falls more into my husband's domain than mine.”

“After some crittehs, eh?” Vino chuckled, finishing off the last of his drink and holding the empty glass up to request another. He smiled lazily as the man from the bar refilled it, before setting two foaming mugs of Butterbeer down with a _clunk_.

“We're after some _information_ about some critters,” Tina corrected, her eyes shrewd. Vino pursed his lips, taking another sip without replying.

“We were wondering,” she continued, raising her eyebrows as she took the smallest of sips from her mug, “What you might know about dragon or dragon egg sales over the past year and a half.”

There was a long silence, Vino's bloodshot eyes glinting strangely for a moment in the dark. “...Dragons, eh?”

“Yes,” she said firmly, never taking her eyes off him as she took another small sip from her drink. “I assume you've heard of them.”

Vino smirked, leaning back in his chair as his eyes scanned the bar. He was quiet for a minute, apparently lost in thought before he turned back at them.

“Alright,” he said slowly, raising his eyebrows. His hands rubbed over his stubble, considering them. “I mighta 'eard something about a 'orntail, 'bout six weeks back.”

“A _Horntail_?” Tina hissed, leaning forward.

“Might've been.” Vino gulped thirstily at his drink.

Newt frowned, sitting forward swiftly. “You idiot, who did you sell it to?”

“Blimey. Sold it? I'm wounded, Mr. Scamandeh. _Wounded_.” He took another long gulp, surveying him impassively. “Whatchu want to know?” he added, shrugging.

Tina grimaced, her hand on her husband's arm. “We're actually interested in knowing more about the potential sale of a Common Welsh Green,” she informed him.

Vino gazed at them, looking momentarily caught off-guard, though he recovered quickly. “We don't see many o' those, doll. Not too glamorous, them Taffies.”

“It's still a bloody dragon, isn't it,” Newt said impatiently, rolling his eyes. “It'll rip your head off as good as the next one.”

Tina gave him a very pointed look, raising her eyebrows, as if to say “NOW you think they're worth getting worked up about?” Newt had the good grace to look chagrined, taking a long sip of his Butterbeer and choking on it.

“So, if it's unusual then, you'd be inclined to remember, wouldn't you?” Tina pressed on, surveying their companion over the top of her own drink.

Vino considered her in silence for a moment. “Could be,” he said finally, his expression noncommittal. “Maybe not, tho'. A year's a long time, love.”

“A year and a half,” Newt corrected, sipping from his own mug. Vino surveyed him, his bleary eyes unusually sharp.

“Year and a 'alf,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Newt said primly, nodding. Tina frowned, studying Vino carefully.

“Vino...” she said slowly, her voice low. “What do you know?”

He was silent for a moment, contemplating his drink. “If I did, I couldn't say, love. Dangerous, that sort o' talk.”

“I didn't know you were one to spook so easily,” Newt said softly, his gaze intent.

Vino snorted. “You 'eard wrong then, dinchoo? I'm a bloody coward, I'd be the first to admit it.”

“Vino,” Tina said soothingly, creasing her brow. “I know you want to help me out here. We're friends, aren't we?” She gave him her best smile, touching his hand the way she'd seen Queenie do. Newt frowned.

Vino paused, glancing at the both of them before looking away. “Listen...” he said softly, his voice low. “I got kids,” he said finally. He leaned back, taking a long swig of his drink before starting to cough.

Tina hesitated, gazing at him for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her eyes. There was a moment of silence, the Scamanders exchanging a look between themselves.

“Alright,” Tina said quietly, frowning to herself before shooting another glance at Newt. She sighed, fixing Vino with a very pointed look. “...Now what about the Horntail?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun to write, what a hoot. :D Hopefully it was as fun to read.
> 
> PS. I gotta warn y'all, the next chapter is going to be SO FLUFFY YOU'LL GAG ON IT. Bring a toothbrush, it's gonna be sugary sweet.


	7. Expecting the Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this chapter come out of nowhere? Not if you've been paying attention. (: (: (: Mild trigger warning for emetophobia (if you don't know what it is, you probably don't have it). Same goes for blood and needles.

Tina's worries seemed to be worsening by the day, and it was with a familiar edge of anxiety that she found herself sitting in the stark white room, the paper crinkling as she shifted on the table. She grimaced. Tina hated hospitals.

She was also feeling a little guilty, having neglected to mention to her husband that she was making this particular excursion. She'd hoped to avoid adding to his own worries before she knew if there was anything to actually worry _about_ , or before she could present a solution. She knew he would be upset with her, but the act had been instinctual – her childhood had been built around _shielding Queenie, shielding Queenie_ , and the fact that it was so difficult to shield Queenie from _anything_ had only reinforced her determination.

She sighed, glancing up as the door swung open.

“So what brings you in today, dearie?”

Tina bit her lip, meeting the older woman's eyes. She was in her late forties or so, with dark blonde hair and an understanding smile. Tina hesitated for a moment before speaking, her gaze cautious. “I think I might be suffering from exhaustion.” She managed an apologetic smile, averting her gaze again.

“I see,” the Healer nodded, making a note on her clipboard. “And why do you think that might be?”

Tina exhaled slowly, picking a strand of kneazle hair from her robes. “Well, it's happened before, for one thing,” she admitted. She glanced up, her voice soft. “About two years ago, I... _overextended_ myself a bit. Stress, and overwork...” She shook her head, smiling feebly. “I was getting married, trying to prepare to live and work in a new country – and one day I just collapsed. I ended up having to take a couple weeks off to recover...”

The Healer nodded again, still hovering over her. Her intelligent blue eyes were sympathetic as she waited for her to continue. When she didn't, she prompted gently - “And you're feeling like that again?”

Tina took a deep breath, frowning. “...I fainted at work.” Tina grimaced, looking at the floor. “And I'm an Auror, so - that can't happen.”

“I see.”

Tina made a face, looking exhausted. “I know the main problem is just taking it easy,” she said thoughtfully, glancing away. “But that can be...difficult for me, at times.” She gazed wistfully at the wall, avoiding eye contact for a moment. “Last time I was able to get a potion to help me fall asleep though, and another to help me relax during the day.”

“Well, we can certainly look into that,” the Healer nodded, smiling encouragingly before turning her attention back to Tina's chart. “So. Why don't you tell me what happened today?”

Tina sighed, wringing her hands. “It was just for a second. I don't think I even lost consciousness, really.” She paused, remembering. “I was standing in the alley, getting into position for a stakeout, and all of a sudden I started feeling lightheaded. I think I sort of wavered for a second, then I just...collapsed. And I needed to duck away and sit down for awhile before I felt better.” Tina frowned, her eyes troubled.

“Hmm.” The Healer was quiet for a few minutes, scribbling something in her notes. “And have you experienced any dizziness before today?”

“Maybe once or twice,” Tina said uncomfortably. The Healer nodded, making another check.

“Been eating well?”

“Yes,” Tina lied. The Healer glanced at her, but didn't comment.

Tina grimaced. “I haven't been feeling like myself for a few weeks now,” she admitted, looking sheepish. “And then today, I just figured...I should probably come in and get checked out properly, just in case it turned out to be something more serious.”

Healer Fortescue nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Well, I think you made the right choice, dearie.” She pointed her wand at the chart, gesturing at something. “So you've been feeling more tired than usual?”

“Yes,” Tina nodded.

“And you mentioned you're struggling with insomnia?”

“...Well, not insomnia, exactly,” Tina said slowly, frowning slightly. “I've actually been sleeping a _lot._ So I guess that's different from last time – before, I'd toss and turn all night.”

“Hmm.” The Healer made a note. “When did you first notice yourself feeling tired?”

“Um...maybe a month ago?” Tina tried to think back.

“Have things been extra strenuous at work lately?” The woman looked at her curiously.

“No more than usual, I suppose,” Tina shrugged.

“Hmm.” The Healer scribbled something on her notepad.

“I guess it builds up after awhile, though,” Tina amended, looking away. She pulled her cloak a little more firmly around her shoulders, fiddling with her collar.

“I'm sure it does, dear,” the Healer said kindly, patting her leg. Tina managed a weak smile. “Have you been suffering from any other symptoms?” she continued.

Tina bit her lip, evading her gaze again. “Well – it's like I said, I haven't been feeling myself.”

A line appeared in Healer Fortescue's forehead. “Can you be more specific, dearie?”

Tina sighed, meeting her eyes only reluctantly. “...I've gotten sick a few times,” she admitted. “This morning, and then a couple of times last week.”

The Healer raised her eyebrows, surveying her notes. “Hmm.” Tina rather wished she'd stop doing that.

“I thought it was stress,” she explained, shrugging uncomfortably. “It's happened before. Back when I was in school, during exams...I made myself sick a few times. I know it's a problem, I push myself too hard sometimes.”

The Healer frowned, looking sympathetic. “Poor dear.” She nodded, scribbling away on the chart. “So these times you've gotten sick, you've been feeling particularly stressed?”

“Well –“ Tina hesitated, frowning. “Not exactly, now that I think about it,” she said slowly, thinking back. Healer Fortescue looked up at her, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe it's not exhaustion, then,” Tina added fairly, looking suddenly thoughtful. “I just assumed, I guess, because of last time. Has there been a bug going around?”

The Healer paused for a moment, deliberating before she spoke. “Mrs. Scamander – I know it's a sensitive question, but is it possible you're pregnant?”

Tina stared at her, her heart skipping a beat. “Pregnant?” she repeated. She leaned forward as if to hear her better, her eyebrows rising in confusion.

The Healer gestured to the chart. “It says here you haven't had a cycle in two months.”

Tina hesitated, her throat going dry as she tried to organize her chaotic thoughts. “Sometimes I skip them. The Potion lets me do that if I like, and things have been crazy at work – I had to testify in Russia for a case, then I was in Poland - it was just one less thing to worry about.”

The Healer nodded understandingly, smiling slightly, before writing something on the chart.

Tina was reeling, her mind scrambling to keep up with her racing heart. _Pregnant?_ She'd have realized, wouldn't she?

 _Apparently not_ , she thought dryly. She felt suddenly embarrassed, running through the list of symptoms in her mind. _Fatigue. Nausea._ _ **Sensitivity to smell.**_ She was old enough to know what these symptoms suggested.

“So you've been taking the Potion regularly? One tablespoon, same time, every day?” The Healer gazed at her expectantly, her quill poised in her hand.

Tina blinked.

No, she hadn't been _perfectly_ stringent about it. She was a responsible person, to be sure, but it was, indeed, _possible_ that at some point in the past few months, she'd allowed time zones and work schedules to get the best of her, and taken her potion a bit later than she should have - or even, once or twice, forgotten altogether. It was **possible.**

“Why don't we test you and find out?” The Healer's gentle voice broke through her frenzied thoughts.

“I – alright,” she said uncertainly, her expression hard to read. More than anything, really, she felt **shock** , and she wasn't even sure why. It wasn't as if she hadn't ever thought about getting pregnant. It wasn't even as if she'd never considered the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy – after all, the Potion was only about 90% effective anyway. She'd known it was a risk she was taking. So why was she so _stunned_?

Healer Fortescue nodded, smiling bracingly. “Alright, dear. Would you prefer a Pregnancy Revelation Charm to test for a heartbeat, or the blood test? The heartbeat test is less invasive, but it's only consistently effective after eight weeks.”

“I –” she stared at her, needing a moment to untangle the string of words. “...Right. Um.” She frowned. She was no fan of blood draws, but if the Healer was right, if they'd made a _baby_ – Tina swallowed, inhaling sharply. She didn't want to hear the heartbeat for the first time without Newt there. She couldn't. “The blood test, please.”

“Right you are, dearie.”

Tina's thoughts seemed to go dim as she withdrew into herself, still trying to process this possibility.

“Are you ready, dear?”

Tina started, nodding. “Yes. Sorry.”

The Healer gave her an encouraging smile, pulling out her wand. “This shouldn't _hurt_ , exactly, but it might feel a bit odd.”

Tina nodded, holding out her arm. She felt a strange tingling in the crook of her elbow where the Healer had pressed her wandtip to her skin, then watched as a long, glistening red thread raised through her skin, swirling in the air as the Healer conjured a vial. She blinked, as if in a daze, as the older witch waved her wand over the scarlet blotch on her skin to seal the wound.

“Alright, Tina, you're all sorted,” she said gently. “I'll need to add this to the pregnancy test potion and wait to see the results, but I should have an answer for you in about twenty minutes.” Healer Fortescue magicked a cork to slide into the vial, labeling it expertly with her wand. “Would you prefer to wait a bit longer to find out, and have someone with you when you hear the news? We can send you an owl-”

“I'd like to know sooner rather than later, please.” Tina's voice came out a little breathless. She felt a clench in her chest, suddenly regretting her decision not to ask Newt to come along. It hurt a little to realize he wouldn't be around for this, but the thought of waiting for him was torture. For that matter, she knew it could take hours for her to even reach him; he'd almost certainly still be visiting Winnie right now. She could hardly expect an owl to be willing to deliver her note to him if he was ten feet away from a dragon, for Merlin's sake. Even if she sent a Patronus message, she'd risk distracting him when he was in the middle of a potentially tense, dangerous situation.

No. She would have to find out on her own. She would tell him tonight, in the case - either way, she realized. They'd need to talk about this no matter what the test said.

The Healer smiled at her. “Of course, dear. And I'll run some additional tests on your sample too, just in case, see if we can't figure out what's troubling you. You'll be feeling better soon, not to worry.”

“Thank you,” Tina replied distractedly, still lost in her own little world. She watched in a daze as the Healer exited the room, her mind on the flutter in her stomach, and what it might mean.

* * *

She found him in the case, working in the Graphorn enclosure. He was hard at work, though his demeanor seemed utterly relaxed as he moved cheerfully between the creatures, delivering their dinner. “Come now, Gail, you'll all get your turn,” she heard him chide lightly, patting a calf on the head as she tried to tackle him. “Really, Gus, don't _push_ ,” he chastised a moment later, sounding amused, as a slightly larger Graphorn galloped into range. Newt laughed, tossing out a slab of meat for the creature to catch.

She watched him for awhile in silence, his expression calm and enamored as he hauled around the heavy bucket of food. He could have used his wand for this – he could have used his wand for _all_ of it, for that matter – but she knew he took comfort in the act of caretaking, in the simple matter of tending to other creatures with his own flesh and blood labor.

He was going to be a good father.

“Hello there.” Newt grinned, finally taking notice of her, still watching from several yards away. He beckoned for her to come closer, trying to wade his way out of the half dozen creatures hovering around him. Tina smiled, stepping forward. Newt beamed as he came the rest of the way to greet her, catching her in a kiss before tugging her gently back toward the enclosure. In front of them, Tina could see the family of Graphorns, the children chasing each other as the mother pawed the sandy floor.

“Did you get to see Winnie?” she asked, her fingers entwined in his.

“Just got back about an hour ago,” he nodded, his gaze on the ground as they walked.

“Any change?” she asked softly.

Newt smiled, exhaling slowly. “She ate breakfast _and_ lunch,” he said thickly, looking wistful. “Every bite.”

“You're kidding.” Tina grinned, feeling a little euphoric. “That's wonderful, Newt.”

“It is,” he agreed, beaming softly. “Still a bit picky over her dinner, but - it's certainly encouraging.”

Tina smiled, stopping in their tracks so she could wrap him in a hug. Newt sighed into her skin, his fingers tracing up her back as he pulled her closer. She could smell his familiar scent, slightly stronger than she remembered it, and felt a sudden thrill of realization run through her. She hugged him a little tighter before letting him go.

“How was your day?” he asked lightly, resuming his path back to the enclosure. Tina paused in the entrance, watching as he was hailed upon reentering the enchanted space.

“It was...good,” she said carefully, deliberating her words. Newt flashed her a grin, approaching the female Graphorn and starting to stroke her cheek. “Pushed through an arrest on someone selling cursed items to No-Majs.”

“That's excellent.” He glanced up at her with serious eyes, and she nodded, smiling distractedly. Newt flashed her a crooked smile, his attention turning back to the Graphorn now nuzzling her tentacles against his face. Tina was quiet, watching as Newt patted the creature's flank, a small smile still decorating his features. Her expression was pensive as she gazed at the scene, her mind wandering to the news she was preparing to break, the news she was still trying to process herself.

She wondered which one of them their child might favor. In her mind, she envisioned a little girl with Newt's tangled curls and bright green eyes – pictured her sitting on the floor of the case, cuddling the niffler, or letting an occamy slither over her little arms. She wondered what House she would be in Hogwarts – Hufflepuff, she hoped; Newt's old House. She could only imagine how excited that would make him. Or maybe the baby would be a boy – a true Newt in miniature, with overlong bangs and a shy smile too-often evoked to get him out of trouble. A wave of warmth washed over her at the thought.

“I think she's expecting.”

Tina started, her heart jumping into her throat. “What?”

Newt smiled, rubbing the creature's neck. “She's been eating and sleeping more for weeks now, and she won't let the male touch her – always a bit of a giveaway.” He grinned, patting her affectionately.

“Oh. Right,” she said breathlessly, managing a sweet smile. Her heart was still racing. Newt beamed at her, his curls falling over his forehead.

“I'll have to do some blood work when I get the chance to be sure, of course, but I suspect we'll be getting a new member of the family quite soon.”

“That's great.” She smiled, half-holding her breath. Newt beamed, still patting the enormous creature.

_This is your opening. Tell him._

Tina bit her lip, wondering at the ways their lives were about to change.

“...I went to the Healer today.”

Newt jolted, looking back at her with concern now. “Sorry?” he repeated. He stopped petting the Graphorn, his attention on her.

Tina ran her fingers through her hair, trying not to look guilty. “I told you I would, if I didn't start feeling better.”

“I thought you'd stopped getting sick!”

She shrugged, her voice a little softer. “I didn't want to worry you over nothing.”

“I would have went with you.” He looked at her, his eyes widened in rare signs of worry. “What did the Healer say?”

She didn't answer right away, taking a step closer to the creatures as she pondered her words. “How long are Graphorn gestation periods?” she asked curiously, considering them.

Newt took a few strides toward her, his expression sober as he fixed her with an intent gaze. “Tina, what did the Healer say?”

She turned to gaze at him, feeling a little faint as she managed a weak smile. “Sorry,” she chuckled. “I just want to make sure you don't use up the good names on the calf.”

Newt stared at her for a long moment, his brow furrowing as their eyes met. She watched him with bated breath, her brown eyes searching his green ones for the first sign of recognition, for his reaction.

“Tina?” he whispered.

She smiled at him, recognizing the hope in his voice, her heart warming as she stared back at him.

What happened next unfolded so fast, she barely had time to process it. One minute he was gaping at her, his eyes shining, and the next he was lifting her up, his arms tight around her waist as he spun her around.

She laughed, breathless, and the next thing she knew his mouth was on hers, and her feet were teetering her on the ground again as he guided her back to the shed, into the little bunk he'd assembled years ago, his lips hungry as he lowered her onto the twin-sized bed.

“Please – Tina -”

She gasped, her breath sharp as he captured her again in a smoldering kiss. His mouth was hot and wanting as he massaged her tongue with his, his lips pressing hard enough to bruise. She reacted instinctively, pulling him closer, wanting to claim him.

One hand framed her face, the other tentative on her waist, fingers edging under her unhooked cloak.

His lips worked vigorously over her mouth, taking in her lips, her tongue, her breath itself.

It took her a moment to realize he was crying, and she forced herself to pull away, brushing her fingers against the wet spot on his cheeks.

Newt ducked his head, closing his eyes as he tried to settle his frantic breathing.

“I need to hear you say it,” he panted.

Tina smiled, her voice a breathless whisper. “Newt-”

“Please-” he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes wide and searching now.

Her smile grew, her hand coming up to gently brush his bangs out of his face. “I'm _pregnant_.”

Newt gasped, his breathing coming out in sharp gasps. Another tear glistened in his wet eyes, his lips trembling as he looked at her.

“I'm pregnant,” she repeated softly, her voice stronger this time. “We made a baby, Newt.”

It seemed these words were too much for him. His shoulders shook as he lowered himself to her waist, pressing his forehead to her stomach. She could feel a few stray tears soaking into her abdomen. He lifted her blouse a few inches, kissing the bare skin there.

“Oh, Tina,” he breathed, his shoulders shaking.

“Are you happy?” she whispered, studying him intently. Newt paused, looking up at her.

“I am – gloriously happy.”

She bit her lip, nodding as she swallowed a sob.

“Are _you_?” He pressed, looking wistfully at her. “This is good, isn't it?”

She gazed back at him, her tearful laugh telling him all he needed to know. His lips were back on hers, his mouth warm and wet as he pressed her gently against the bed, his manhood already hard against her thigh.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She grinned at him, cupping his face in her hands.

“We made a _baby_ , Newt.” She choked on her laugh, staring at him in wonder.

He gazed at her happily, tears falling freely. “Yes, we did.”

 


	8. The Aftermath of the Announcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things to mention:  
> * You may have noticed I cut the first chapter...that element was originally going to factor in as a subplot, but I decided to scrap it and use it for a future story instead (which I'm now sketching out and which will be set approximately three years from this fic AND WILL HAVE A CUTE TODDLER OH MY GOD). So keep an eye out for that.  
> * Keep an eye out for the explicit outtakes, too, if you like smut. There will be at least one, probably two, linking the last chapter and this one.  
> * Sorry if this chapter is toooo mushy, I promise there is angst ahead.

Newt spent the next two days in a dream, barely able to tear himself from Tina's side. The joy he felt kept rippling through him at random moments, and he'd catch himself wrapping his arms around her, his lips an almost constant presence on her skin. Tina seemed hardly to mind; a small smile had graced her face almost ever since she got back from the Healer's, a glow starting to become apparent as the days ticked by.

Their kiss good-bye that morning had been almost painful, neither one of them particularly eager to return to work after their weekend of solitude. She had left first, her mouth still flaming from his hungry lips. Newt had paced the garden for awhile, tending to the remainder of his creatures, his thoughts on what the next several months would bring. He felt like his life had been irrevocably divided, his mind now forever destined to categorize events based on Before The News and After The News.

He was going to be a father.

A silly smile was still carved into his features as he swirled into the Ministry with a quiet _pop_. The office was already bustling (it seemed he was late, as usual), and Newt hummed contently under his breath, scanning his in-tray and organizing the array of letters and memorandums into individual piles. He didn't even mind wasting the morning inside, despite the breathtaking weather he'd left behind at the cottage. Indeed, the dopey, cheerful expression refused to fade, however feebly he tried to contain his excitement. There was a certain flourish to his script as he wiled away the morning hours, alternating between filling out an update on the Ilfracombe Incident the week before and replying to correspondence from his readers.

His buoyant mood hadn't gone unnoticed; he was perfectly aware of his coworkers shooting him weary Monday-morning looks as the day wore on, but he paid them little mind, still humming to himself as he scribbled away. He knew he was being annoying, but he couldn't seem to keep the stupid grin off his face.

It was well into the morning before one of his colleagues finally remarked upon it, apparently unable to resist any longer the temptation to investigate the curious sight he was making of himself. Ascalaphus Alderton looked amused as he leaned his weight against Newt's messy, parchment-strewn desk, munching a juicy red apple as he fixed him with a piercing gaze. “Alright, I'll bite,” he chortled, crunching into his snack. “What on Earth's gotten into you?”

“...Excuse me?” Newt glanced up, his boyish face politely blank. He felt the corners of his lips twitching as he shot him a fleeting look.

“ _Please_. Give it a rest, Newt,” Alderton scoffed good-naturedly, shaking his head as he considered him. “Did you swallow a pint of Pick-Me-Up Potion instead of your morning pumpkin juice?”

Newt faltered, still fighting to suppress his stubborn smile. “Oh. Erm-” he laughed softly, awkwardly averting the older man's gaze. “I do seem to be a bit cheery today, don't I?” he said meekly, shooting him a crooked smile.

Alderton pursed his lips, giving him a very pointed look. “Hmm. For a chap that's had to wrangle not one but _two_ stray dragons in barely a week, yes, you do seem unusually sprightly,” he replied dryly. “Come on now, give it up.”

Newt smiled, his bangs falling over his eyes as he ducked his head. “...Well,” he said finally, his voice slightly breathless. “I did receive some wonderful news this past Friday,” he admitted, his cheeks twinging pink as he spoke. He paused, smiling at his lap.

Alderton raised his eyebrows, looking bemused. “In that case, I daresay the world could _use_ some good news,” he said wryly, in what was barely more than a mutter. “Let's have it, then,” he prodded, gazing curiously at him as he took another bite of his apple.

Newt hesitated, chewing his lip as he shot Alderton a tentative smile. They hadn't actually told anyone yet, too caught up in their own excitement and private elations, but they hadn't discussed _not_ sharing the news either. He blinked, feeling the other man's intense gaze lingering on him. He really didn't think Tina _would_ mind - it was just one man, after all, and it wasn't as if Cal was known to be some sort of office gossip - and for that matter, he reflected, he thought he might _burst_ with excitement if he held it in any longer...Newt released his breath in a slow sigh, his cheeks burning still brighter as another grin broke out. “My - my wife and I are having a baby.”

Whatever he'd been expecting, apparently it wasn't that. Alderton stalled for a moment, choking a little on his morning snack. Newt glanced up at him, beaming proudly as Alderton began to nod approvingly, chuckling hoarsely all the while. “That _is_ good news! Blimey, congratulations!” He smiled, wiping the juice from his hand before offering it to shake. “That's brilliant, mate, truly.”

Newt grinned, accepting with a nod. “Thank you.” He was positively glowing.

Alderton laughed, shaking his head as he raked him over with his gaze. “No wonder you're so chuffed. Been celebrating?”

Newt flushed, and Alderton chortled merrily. “Just yanking your chain, Scamander.” He swallowed another chunk of apple, looking highly amused.

Newt shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “We're very pleased,” he said quietly, gazing at his lap.

Alderton smiled affectionately. “Of course you are.” He grimaced slightly, shifting his weight against the desk. “I must warn you though, you're in for a hell of a few months. My Mara was throwing up for weeks, even with the Prenatal Potion.” He glanced at him mildly, seeing Newt's uncomfortable expression. “Has the missus been holding up alright?”

Newt bit his lip, scratching his ear timidly. “Erm – quite well, I think, considering. She's mostly just been tired so far. The Healer did make sure she was stocked up, though, just - just in case things should take a turn.” He looked troubled at the thought.

Alderton nodded, turning the apple in his hands. “It's good thinking. It's a rough road ahead, however worth it things turn out in the end.”

“Yes,” Newt said softly, holding his breath. Alderton paused, surveying him shrewdly.

“Try not to worry _too_ much there, Newt,” he added, his voice suddenly gentler. “Women have been doing this for millennia, after all, and your Tina's a tough bird.”

“Oh – yes,” Newt said quickly, smiling slightly. “She is an absolute miracle,” he agreed. “It's just - a bit maddening, to think of her having to endure-” he paused, finally on the brink of voicing his concerns aloud. “Well.”

Alderton was silent, watching him shift uncomfortably. Newt frowned, sparing a quick glance to his coworker before he returned to contemplating his lap. “I feel – guilty, I suppose,” he admitted, swallowing heavily. “Thinking of her in so much pain and discomfort, while I get to just - enjoy the benefits.”

Alderton considered him for a moment, looking pensive. “Well, best thing to do to alleviate those sort of thoughts is to keep on your toes, try to lighten the load a bit. Just because she's in for a hard time doesn't mean you can't make things easier for her. Sometimes just making the effort seems to do the trick. You'd be surprised, I think, how little it can take to raise her spirits.”

Newt hesitated, mulling this over. “I was thinking of doing something special for her, actually,” he said smiling slightly. “Perhaps a weekend with her sister, in France.”

“That's certainly a start,” Alderton nodded, suppressing a laugh. “But don't forget the simple everyday stuff, either.”

Newt paused, glancing uncertainly at him. “I don't suppose you'd have any suggestions?” he prompted, smiling ruefully.

Alderton chuckled, leaning back against the desk. “Oh, you know – the usual doting husband routine. Breakfast in bed, picking up the slack around the house, massages, that sort of thing.” He smirked, dropping his apple core into the rubbish bin. “Can never go wrong bringing your girl some flowers, either,” he added, raising his eyebrows. “Show your thanks, you know.”

 _'Show his thanks'_...Newt was quiet, mulling over these words. He smiled, lost in thought at the possibilities. “Thank you,” he said softly, after a moment. He glanced up, his green eyes meeting Alderton's brown ones. “I think that is an _excellent_ idea.”

Alderton gazed at him steadily, his mouth curled up in a small smile as he nodded. “Always happy to pass on the wisdom of age,” he teased, smirking slightly to himself. Newt grinned, his glance darting back to his again. Alderton smiled, considering him. “...Take care of her, Scamander,” he said lightly, then gave him a little wave before heading back to his desk.

* * *

Newt sighed, his eyes wide and eager as he examined his work. All in all, he thought he'd done rather well for himself. The flowers were draped neatly on his arm, a bag containing one of Tina's favorite chocolate eclairs clutched in his hand.

He winced, suddenly catching sight of his watch, and quickened his step as he made his way down the corridor leading to the Auror Office. It was already almost noon, and quite possible Tina would have left for lunch by now. He supposed he could just leave the surprises on her desk with a note, but it would've been a shame to miss the opportunity to see her reaction.

He needn't have worried. A certain scuffling sound greeted him as he stepped inside her cubicle; Newt glanced around, brow furrowing in confusion for a moment before a smile stole across his face. A stack of boxes was piled a few feet high in the corner, a pair of legs sticking out from behind the heap. Newt chuckled, clearing his throat.

The rustling noise halted abruptly, followed a second later by the sight of Tina's curious-looking head popping up from behind the shroud. “Oh!” She chewed her lip, smiling sheepishly as she scrambled to her feet. “Hey,” she murmured, sounding slightly breathless.

Newt smiled back from the doorway, gazing fondly at her from under his overgrown bangs. “Hello.” He glanced tentatively at the towering pile before meeting her eyes again. “Erm - busy?”

“I'm always _busy_ ,” Tina chuckled, her eyes bright but weary as she considered him. He stuck out like a sore thumb, she thought affectionately, from the soles of his lime green work boots all the way up to the cyan protective earmuffs draped loosely around his neck. She could see a hint of his orange fire-resistant vest peeking out from under the collar of his thick blue robes, clashing horribly with the rest of the color scheme. The corners of her mouth twitched. “What've you got there?” she added softly, noticing the bundle in his arms.

“Ah.” Newt followed her gaze, smiling as he stepped properly into her office. “...Lilies,” he admitted quietly, sparing her a glance. “For you,” he added, holding them out for her. Tina laughed, coming closer to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” she murmured, meeting his eyes for a moment as she accepted the gift. He'd conjured a bouquet of white stargazer lilies, nearly identical to the ones featured at their wedding. Newt watched as she pressed them to her face, inhaling their sweet scent. He smiled, a wave of warmth washing over him.

“It was no trouble, really,” he said brightly, shrugging as he shot her a covert glance. Tina shook her head, looking touched. “It's really sweet,” she said firmly, still smiling a little as she made room for them on her desk.

Newt paused, looking flustered but pleased. “Well. Just...my way of telling you how excited I am,” he explained, shifting his feet as he flashed her another grin. Tina glanced at him, a flush spreading across her cheeks. She hesitated, gnawing her lip. “...C'mere,” she murmured, beckoning him forward. Newt's eyebrows raised hopefully, his green eyes widening as he took her in.

Tina laughed, her face lighting up with a conspiratorial grin as she spared a hasty glance around the office, checking to see if any of her coworkers were paying attention. Her gaze flickered back to his, eyes shining. Newt chuckled, meeting her kiss.

The chaste peck she'd intended turned into something rather less innocent as Newt's hand drifted down to rest on her still flat stomach, and Tina sighed, pulling him closer. She hummed as he slipped his tongue in, his mouth warm and eager as he traced his fingers across her abdomen. She met him move for move, their lips dancing as she smiled into his kiss. Her fingers drifted leisurely to her stomach, draping over his as she felt their noses bump together.

“Mmmmm.” She grinned, pressing her lips together as they finally pulled apart. Newt smiled, exhaling slowly as he rested his forehead against hers.

“ _Erm_ -” He swallowed, cheeks burning as he tried to catch his breath. Tina laughed, taking in his dopey grin.

“Well _aren't_ you two _sickening,”_ a sly voice interrupted, causing the pair to jump apart in surprise. They turned, both cringing as they raised their eyes to meet the gaze of the red-headed man hovering in the doorway, his face turned up in a good-natured smirk.

“Do – you – _mind_?” Newt managed, squinting at his older brother. Theseus laughed, shaking his head.

“I _beg_ your pardon, I seem to have been under the mistaken impression that this was _my_ department, and we were at _work_ ,” he teased. Tina winced, flushing hotly at her boss's words. She bit her lip, about to blurt out an apology, but Theseus cut her off, looking utterly amused. “No, no, don't mind me, I'm only dropping in. I brought that file you needed,” he added, setting a very fat binder onto her desk. “Forgive me, won't you, I just couldn't pass up the chance to torture little Newton a bit,” he chuckled. Theseus grinned, clapping his rather embarrassed-looking baby brother on the shoulder as he passed. “...Nice _flowers_ ,” he added approvingly, raising his eyebrows as he turned to consider the younger man.

Newt smiled, ducking his head as he laughed, feeling slightly giddy. “Well,” he said slowly, his cheeks still pink. “ _Actually_ , there's-” He faltered, noticing Tina hastily trying to catch his eye. She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. Newt paused, looking suddenly uncertain.

“I'll get right on that, Theseus,” she said quickly, managing an uncomfortable smile. “Thanks for bringing it by,” she added, hoisting the thick black binder under her arm.

“No problem,” he said smoothly, flashing his brother a wink. “Feel free to carry on with - _whatever_ you were doing,” he teased, and Newt's face grew, if possible, even redder. He threw his brother a filthy look, Theseus chortling to himself as he ducked back down into the row of cubicles.

A slightly awkward silence followed, both of them blushing as they met each other's gazes. “...I'm sorry,” she said finally, her expression earnest as she brushed her fingers against his hand. “I didn't mean to catch you off-guard like that-” She paused, looking conflicted.

“That's alright,” he said lightly, giving her an understanding grin. “I take it you want to make some sort of announcement?” he asked curiously, giving her an inquisitive smile.

Tina beamed, sighing softly. “I hadn't even -” she paused, shaking her head. “That sounds...wonderful, now that you mention it,” she chuckled, the dimple appearing in her cheek as she contemplated the idea. “But - no, actually – I'm sorry, I meant to talk to you about it this weekend...” She hesitated, appearing suddenly rueful. “Um,” she said slowly, trying not to grimace. “The Healer suggested we might want to _wait_ a few weeks before telling people, just in case -” she paused, biting her lip. Newt frowned, slightly confused. “You know. In case something goes wrong,” she explained softly.

Newt flinched, his breath catching. “ _Ah_.” He nodded, swallowing the sudden lump that had appeared in his throat.

Tina frowned, gnawing her lip. “Do you mind?” she asked tentatively.

Newt shot her a reassuring look, finding her hand. “No – Merlin, of course not,” he said gently. He took a deep breath, his shoulders shaking a bit as he managed a weak smile. “ _Well_ then,” he said bracingly, raising his eyebrows. “Waiting it is.” Newt sighed, lacing his fingers through hers.

“Thank you,” she said softly, squeezing his hand.

He nodded slightly, his green eyes gleaming as they studied her. Tina smiled, closing her eyes as she felt him press his lips to her forehead.

“We _should_ talk, when we get home, about how and when we'd like to announce...” Newt's voice was soft as he considered her, a smile twitching at his lips.

Tina nodded, her cheeks rosy. “We'll know more after my appointment, when we find out how far along I am,” she agreed, meeting his gaze. Newt grinned, sighing softly. “So...” she continued, smiling hopefully. She hovered by her chair, her finger absently tracing over one of the flower petals as she surveyed him. “Any chance you haven't had lunch yet?”

Newt smiled, looking at her affectionately. “That's actually what I came to ask you,” he said lightly. He lowered his voice, smirking a bit. “Just - seeing as how you've got a very good reason to refrain from skipping meals for once.”

Tina laughed, turning her gaze back to the stack of reports waiting for her on her desk. She bit her lip, still smiling, before she threw him a wistful glance. “Give me ten minutes.”

* * *

The streets of Muggle London were quiet as they made their way down Charing Cross Road, Tina chattering away about her morning. Newt smiled, listening intently as he led them toward the familiar inn hidden between two unobtrusive shops.

“I mean, it took awhile, but I managed to get backlogs for every known trafficker we have listed in our archives. If they've been arrested in Britain in the past thirty years, I've got 'em,” she said proudly, jutting out her chin.

Newt glanced at her, blinking slowly as he swallowed his slightly alarmed laugh. “That is – very impressive,” he said finally, his eyes tracing over her face.

Tina smirked, shooting him an impetuous look as she pulled open the door and stepped inside, Newt following closely in her wake.

“Oh -” Tina grimaced, hesitating as she was pushed backward into her husband's chest by the milling crowd. The Leaky Cauldron was packed, hordes of witches and wizards all looking eager to enjoy their lunch hour as they swarmed the restaurant.

“Would you rather go somewhere else?” Newt asked timidly, cringing a bit as he took in the throng.

“No, I'd rather just get on with it...besides, I'm used to crowds,” she smiled, chuckling slightly. She paused, sensing her husband's discomfort. “Do you want to go?” she added cautiously, raising her eyebrows.

“No, no, I'm fine,” he said quickly, giving her a genuine smile. “And far be it from me to deprive you of your beloved milkshake.”

“Okay...” she said trepidantly, studying him shrewdly for a moment before deciding he truly didn't mind. She smiled, squeezing his hand. “Why don't you try to find us a table, and I'll go order,” she suggested, tipping her head toward the counter.

Newt paused, biting his lip politely. “Would you prefer if I get the food so you can sit down?” he asked kindly, his gaze flickering to her stomach. Tina smiled, shaking her head.

“I don't mind. Besides, I'm not sure what I want yet,” she said lightly, scanning the restaurant curiously.

“If you're sure.” He threw her a crooked smile. “Can I at least take your bag?” he offered, nodding to the shoulder bag she liked to use to cart around reports when not at work.

“Oh – sure,” she blinked, handing it off to him. Newt grabbed it by the strap, eyes widening a bit at the weight.

“Soup and salad, right?” she added, struggling to see the menu printed on the wall. “With pumpkin juice?”

“Yes, please.” Newt chuckled, adjusting her bag over his arm. Tina nodded distractedly, flashing him a small smile as she moved to get in line. Newt sighed, doing his best to avoid eye contact as he weaved through the crowd. He found a tiny 2-person table hidden in the back and lunged for it, ignoring the bewildered glance of a woman nearby.

She took a surprisingly short time to return, considering the business of the restaurant, and Newt felt his face light up as he spotted her making her way through the crowd. She smiled, shaking her head at his eager expression. “Here we are,” she said lightly, setting down the tray. “I had a shorter wait than I expected, I had a _smuggler_ spot me and duck outside,” she laughed. Newt chuckled, his gaze falling on the array of food. He winced in spite of himself, slowly taking in the pile of greasy chips, thick burger, and whipped cream upon a chocolate shake. “I got your extra dressing,” she added, rearranging their food on the tray.

Newt nodded, smiling feebly. Tina frowned, catching his expression.

“...What?” she said curiously.

Newt blanched, his eyes widening slightly. “What?” he asked primly, taking a long sip of his pumpkin juice and choking on it.

“What was that look about?” she pressed, taking her seat. She threw him a concerned glance as she pushed her chair in, tilting her head inquisitively.

Newt hesitated, scratching his ear. “Erm-” he grimaced, smiling awkwardly as he sought out the right words. “Would you like a bit of fruit or something with that?”

Tina blinked, glancing down at her food in confusion. “...What?” she repeated blankly. Newt bit his lip, smiling apologetically as he met her gaze.

“ _Really_ _?_ ” she laughed, realization dawning. Newt cringed, smiling tentatively. She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Are you gonna start packing my _lunch_ for me?” she scoffed, shaking her head.

Newt paused, looking suddenly thoughtful.

“No,” Tina said firmly. Newt threw her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly.

“You should be glad I'm eating at all,” she pointed out, raising her eyebrows. “You know a lot of women _completely_ lose their appetite during their first trimester.”

“That is very true,” he said soberly, meeting her gaze. The corners of his lips twitched.

Tina stared at him for a moment, then sighed, getting back to her feet. His eyes followed her as she returned to the bar, chatting with the innkeeper for a few minutes before she returned to the table, clutching an apple.

“That really wasn't necessary,” he said gently, his eyes finding hers.

Tina laughed out loud, fixing him with a sly smile. “I _know_ ,” she shot back, her eyebrows rising playfully. “I _wanted_ it.” She gestured to her tray, her gaze challenging. “Is this better? Look,” she added. “We've got fruits, vegetables, grains, dairy, protein-”

Newt smirked, raising his eyebrows as he surveyed her meal, but wisely chose to remain silent. Tina smiled, her eyes sparkling triumphantly.

“... _So,_ ” she said pointedly, taking a bite out of the apple. “Can we get back to what I was saying?”

“ _Yes_ ,” he said quickly, offering her his best smile.

Tina nodded, looking satisfied. “Alright.” Newt watched as she ducked low, picking up her workbag and slipping a file onto the table. “So. I pulled our list of known traffickers from the archives,” she said matter-of-factly, leaning forward to share the parchment with him. “Seven of them are serving time in Azkaban, but two of those were only taken into custody within the past six months-”

“So they're still suspects,” he nodded, squinting at the parchment.

“Right,” she agreed, her head brushing his. “Although obviously they wouldn't be working alone, they'd need an accomplice to take care of Winnie until she escaped last week.”

“Hmm,” he acknowledged. “Unless she got out earlier, and only decided to make her appearance recently.”

Tina paused, acknowledging this possibility with a slight nod. Newt glanced at her, watching as she set the apple down on the table and started on her chips instead. He sighed, smiling a little.

“As you can see, it's pretty comprehensive-” she continued, munching absently as she skimmed the file.

“I think you can cross Bagman off,” Newt muttered, his eyes scanning the list. “The most sinister creature he's ever handled is the odd Lobalug, he wouldn't be involved in something like this. Same goes for Thickey and Smith...”

Tina nodded, chewing her lip. “Mm, that's what I thought too. Luckily we should be able to trim it down a ways.” She lowered her voice slightly, frowning as she glanced shrewdly around the bar. “I think we must be dealing with someone genuinely Dark, judging by Vino's reaction,” she added quietly, her expression intense.

He was silent, neither agreeing nor expressly contradicting her, but rather looking somewhat lost in thought.

Tina hesitated, taking a deep breath as she considered him. “Now, I suspect this is probably a 'no',” she said slowly, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Because if there _were,_ you would have almost certainly noticed before and we wouldn't have needed Queenie in the first place - but – does Winnie show any typical signs of trafficking that we might be able to use to file a warrant?”

Newt frowned, sitting back as he turned over the question in his mind. “...Well, that's what's odd about it,” he said finally, sighing uncertainly. “Normally, I would absolutely expect to see specific, concrete signs of mistreatment – dragons don't usually allow you to keep them penned up without a fight,” he explained, raising his eyebrows wryly. “But she doesn't exhibit any of the particular markings commonly seen in trafficking of large game – no scars from chains, no burn marks...”

Tina nodded, looking pensive. “Is it possible that whatever is ailing her made her easier to manage in general? I mean, we've agreed that something's wrong with her beyond mere malnutrition, right?”

“Quite,” Newt muttered, his expression troubled.

Tina gazed at him, mulling this over. “Well, tricky or not, I'm going to keep digging,” she said softly, and Newt smiled, shooting her an appreciative look.

“...Could it be though that her condition is the _result_ of mistreatment, instead of something inborn?” she continued, her brows knitting again.

“I really couldn't say,” Newt said softly, frowning in earnest now. “I've honestly never seen a case like hers. There are scarce few afflictions that can seriously affect dragons to begin with, and the ones that do tend to be fatal in a very short time.”

Tina paused, her breath catching. “...Meaning Winnie could be-?” Tina bit her lip, looking at him searchingly. Her heart seemed to skip a beat.

“Meaning Winnie would already be dead,” Newt said curtly, and Tina wasn't sure if she should laugh or not. Newt gave a wry chuckle, capturing her hand across the table.

“Oh,” she said slowly, smiling ruefully. She glanced at him sheepishly. “So – what's the next step?”

Newt took a sip of his drink, taking a moment to respond. “I'm assembling a full list of Winnie's symptoms, and how they've changed over the past week, hoping to compile a profile on her...it might give us some answers the blood work hasn't been able to yet.”

She nodded. “How was she this morning?” she asked curiously, sipping from her shake.

“Better,” he admitted, smiling slightly. “Her progress has been – much slower than I'd like, but she is starting to get a bit of her strength back. We've upped her to three handlers.” He didn't mention that the standard for a dragon her age was eight. Tina hardly needed to be told such details, anyway.

“That's good!” she said warmly, grasping his hand. Newt smiled mildly, nodding.

“Speaking of symptoms...” he began, clearing his throat. He met her gaze, his expression softening. “...How are you feeling?”

Tina smiled, squirming a bit in her chair. “I feel good,” she admitted, stroking his knuckle with her thumb. “I haven't been sick, I'm rested, good appetite...”

“That is _excellent_ ,” he said softly.

“And – I'm _happy_ ,” she said simply, meeting his eyes with a knowing grin. “I can't seem to stop _smiling_ ,” she confessed, laughing a little.

Newt beamed, ducking his head for a moment. “Yes, I seem to be experiencing that as well,” he confessed, grinning at her from across the table.

She hesitated, leaning forward. “Maybe, this weekend...we could go visiting some of the stores, start stocking up on supplies,” she suggested, her eyes searching his hopefully. Newt grinned, nodding.

“That would be - fantastic,” he breathed.

“We'll be able to tell people soon,” she added, squeezing his hand. “The Healer said she thought I was at least seven weeks, and we'll know for sure in a few days. That means I've only got a little over a month before I'm in the second trimester, at the most.”

“A _month_ ,” he sighed, ducking his head again.

“I know,” she replied, chucking ruefully. “But - it's kind of _fun_ , isn't it?” she whispered, raising her eyebrows. “Having this little secret?”

He beamed at her. “ _Yes_ ,” he said swiftly.

Tina smiled, sitting back as she took a bite of her burger.

“I assume you realize there's not a snow-wizard's chance in Hell of keeping this from Queenie,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows.

Tina choked on her laugh, swallowing carefully. “She's going to lose it,” she agreed, biting back a smile. “Wear your earmuffs, in fact,” she suggested wryly, as Newt laughed softly into his soup.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The next chapter will focus heavily on a visit from Jacob and Queenie, and after that will be a 1930s wizard ultrasound. I've got most of this story mapped out now (roughly 15 chapters worth), I just have to hammer out the ending and polish it all up. And maybe even start posting on a schedule? Maybe? Ha, now I've jinxed it.


	9. A Family Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've got this story fairly well mapped out to the end (~15 chapters and an epilogue) and it's probably about 70% written. It's going to feature a lot of action, angst, and some serious schmaltz, but hopefully it will all be fun, and from there I'm moving on to a fresh story. In the meantime, enjoy some sweet domestic stuff featuring Queenie/Jacob, and don't forget to leave a comment if you're enjoying! <3
> 
> PS. Translations -  
> “Bonjer” - baby talk for “Bonjour”  
> “Minou” - “Kitty”

By early evening the next afternoon, Newt was starting to wonder if pregnancy might not come with other complications, besides the obvious. True, Tina had been known to be a bit high-strung more than once in their relationship, but he was fairly sure this was a record, and he wasn't quite sure how he ought to feel about it.

“Sorry. Don't mind me.”

He glanced up, nodding slightly as he spotted his wife grab – of all things – a spatula before disappearing out of the kitchen once more.

Newt grimaced, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow as he turned back to his work. It was another sickly warm summer day, the sun still shining brightly despite being well after six in the evening. Most of the creatures had retreated to the sanctuary of the shade or the stables by now; the exceptions, of course, being the ones already enjoying the temperature-controlled environment in the suitcase. Inside the cottage, the Kneazles were both draped lazily under the couch, undetectable were it not for their mild snores.

As for himself, he was trying fruitlessly to finish the edits for a new chapter of his book, hunched over the kitchen table with a deep blue quill clutched between his fingers as he attempted to tune out the flurry of movement behind him. This turned out to be fairly easy, all things considered, being accustomed by now to working in chaotic environments - at least until the noises once again became an awful lot closer. He paused, only mildly surprised to hear his wife shuffling around behind him.

“Hello,” he said calmly, glancing at her over his shoulder.

“Sorry. I just wanted to check and make sure I'd remembered to feed the Kneazles tonight...” she muttered, coming to a halt as she saw the already-full food dishes. Newt met her gaze for a moment, seeing her slightly sheepish look, then offered her an understanding smile before turning back to his parchment. Tina had been a restless ball of energy all evening, scurrying about the cottage like a Diricawl with its head cut off.

“...Sorry,” she repeated, looking rueful. “Am I getting on your nerves?”

He glanced up again, caught somewhat by surprise at the question. Quite the opposite, he found her antics rather charming, and happily told her so. Tina smiled, her dark eyes crinkling as she pulled up a chair.

“I think I might be a little overexcited,” she admitted.

Newt bit his lip, trying hard to keep his face passive. She certainly had been. Already since she'd arrived home from work, he'd watched as she'd spent half an hour reading in the living room, pretending not to be staring at the fireplace and only remembering to turn the page every ten minutes or so. Finally, no doubt ascribing to the adage, “ _A watched cauldron never boils_ ”, Tina had attempted to distract herself with a growing list of activities – dusting the books, cleaning the stove, brushing the Kneazles, rearranging the furniture, just to name a few - but none seemed to hold her interest for long.

Newt met her gaze, looking at her thoughtfully. “Erm. You do seem a bit – jittery,” he agreed lightly. “Is everything alright?”

“Just nerves,” she said softly, chewing on her lip.

Newt frowned, considering her. “Are you - _worried_ about something?” he asked gently, his eyes betraying his mild concern.

Tina started, her mouth dropping slightly as she seemed to really look at him for the first time. “Oh – _no_ ,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she reached for his hand. “ _No,_ ” she repeated warmly, lacing her fingers in his. He smiled back at her, his eyebrows rising slightly in an unspoken question.“It's just – ”Tina grinned, looking almost embarrassed. “This is a big night,” she said softly. “We're _telling_ people-”

“Or rather, allowing them to discover on their own, you mean,” he chuckled, and Tina laughed out loud.

“Yes,” she agreed, smiling affectionately.

“Sorry, do go on,” he smiled, squeezing her hand.

Tina took a moment before she continued, looking flustered. “It's just-” she paused, licking her bottom lip in contemplation. Newt tipped his head, waiting patiently for her to finish her thought. She took a deep breath, meeting his gaze again. “I'm about to tell the most _important_ person in my life, aside from you,” she said finally, her eyes slightly glazed. She shrugged, smiling modestly. “I'm going to remember this moment for the rest of my life,”she added softly. “I guess it's just hard not to feel a bit frazzled,” she admitted.

Newt beamed, standing and walking behind her so he could massage her shoulders. “Yes,” he agreed quietly, kissing the side of her head. “It is, absolutely, quite a big night for us.” He paused, his voice growing softer. “That's no reason to get yourself so worked up, though...”

“I know,” she grimaced, exhaling slowly. Newt smiled, resting his face in her hair.

“Can I do anything to help?” he added gently, squeezing her shoulder. “I could make you tea, or cocoa – or perhaps some of that semi-caffeinated coffee you thought I wouldn't notice you'd switched to?” he chuckled.

Tina grinned, ducking her head. “Coffee might be nice,” she assented, nodding slightly.

Newt smiled, moving to heat a cup of water with his wand, before returning to continue his ministrations along her neck and shoulders. “Anything else on your mind?” he prompted, resting his lips on the top of her head again. “You do seem awfully tense, for what should be a very lovely evening,” he said softly, taking in the milk-and-honey scent of her hair. Tina sighed, shifting slightly without replying.

“Long day at the office?” he asked curiously, running his hands along the length of her arms.

Tina frowned, closing her eyes at his touch. “...Vino Fletcher's avoiding me,” she admitted, a note of bitterness creeping into her voice. “I sent him an owl yesterday morning, and he still hasn't bothered getting back to me.”

Newt bit his lip, looking thoughtful. “Is that unusual?” he asked quietly. “Somehow I hadn't quite pictured him as the punctual type.”

Tina snorted, ducking her head. “Call it Auror's Intuition,” she said dryly. “I know when he's blowing me off, and when he's just - lying _drunk_ in a ditch somewhere.”  She rolled her eyes.  "That's not a bad idea, actually.  I'm going to _blast_ him into a ditch when I track him down."

“Well, do let me know when you've found him, please. That sounds like quite the show.”

Tina laughed, her shoulders shaking. Newt smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“...What time did they say they were coming?” she asked uncertainly, her voice suddenly softer.

“Six-thirty,” Newt reminded her, for the fourth time.

Tina nodded, glancing at the clock. It was just past, the minute hand hovering between the six and the seven.

“Of course, we can expect that to be a bit optimistic, given that they have three small children to corral,” Newt added, following her gaze. Tina smiled slightly, sipping at her coffee.

“Would you like a snack or anything, to tide you ov-?” Newt turned, his words drifting off as he watched the embers spring to life.

“That's them.” Tina darted forward, the flames crackling merrily. Newt smiled, following her into the living room.

The hitherto silent fireplace was now roaring, a man-sized blaze spitting and snarling within the grate. They watched as the flames burned green, and a moment later a blurred figure could be seen, spinning madly for a few seconds before slowing to a stop.

They both stepped forward, suddenly looking into Jacob Kowalski's good-natured grin. Tina stifled a laugh, her hand flying to her mouth.

Quite aside from the face full of ash, which made him look as if he'd just had something large and flammable blow up in his face, he had a distinct waddle to him as he tottered out of the fireplace, his movements hindered by the presence of two identically-clothed babies strapped respectively to his front and back, both of whom blinked around with miraculously clean skin. The effect was something utterly ridiculous, and Tina had to glance away to keep from giggling.

Newt hid his amusement with a touch more grace, though his eyes sparkled as he stepped toward him. “Jacob. So good to see you,” he said politely, moving to greet him.

“Newt, buddy!” Jacob exclaimed, grinning enthusiastically as he stumbled forward. “Geez, pal, can't you wizards work out a way to transport people that don't involve starting fires in this heat?” he chided, chuckling brightly as he stepped further into the living room. Newt smirked, exchanging a glance with his wife. Jacob's smile widened as he followed his gaze.

“Well hey, if it ain't my favorite sister-in-law – how ya doin'?” he added brightly, giving her an awkward one-arm hug. “Queenie's on her way, she's just gettin' Rory's shoes on,” he explained, still beaming at them.

Tina chuckled, slipping her wand out of the pocket of her robes. “Stand still, you've got-” she paused, gesturing to his face and ash-laden shoulders. “ _Tergeo_ ,” she said firmly, her expression sobering in concentration.

“Thanks, doll,” Jacob said gratefully, with an embarrassed laugh. Tina smiled, taking in his fresh appearance. It'd been nearly a month since they'd last visited France, popping in for an afternoon to celebrate Queenie's birthday. He looked as hearty as ever, though – it appeared fatherhood agreed with him just as well as motherhood seemed to agree with her sister. True, she could detect a slight purple lurking just beneath his eyes, but he was taking everything in stride, as usual. She smiled, catching his grin as he turned back to her, one hand now clutching the foot of the baby attached to his chest, the other bending behind him to squeeze the tiny blue bootie of the infant draped across his back.

“...Here, let me help with you that,” Newt grinned, swallowing his laugh as he moved to unhook one of the twins.

“Thanks, man,” Jacob chuckled, standing still to let him work. Newt smiled, glancing into the chubby face of the baby strapped to his brother-in-law's back. A pair of dark eyes met his, wide and inquisitive.

“Hello there,” he said quietly, raising his eyebrows in amusement as he started to unbuckle the assortment of fastenings keeping the baby secured. “And which one are you?” he asked teasingly, pausing in his efforts in order to tickle the little one's chin.

“That would be Teddy,” Jacob supplied, glancing over his shoulder.

Newt smiled, brushing his finger across the ten-week-old's cheek. “Well, let me be the first to welcome you to England, Teddy. This is your first trip across the Channel, I believe?” he asked softly, the corners of his mouth twitching. Tina laughed, moving in front of Jacob to greet the first baby's twin. She paused briefly, peering over the shorter man's head and observing him for a moment as she smiled quietly to herself.

Newt raised his eyebrows, surveying the infant with polite curiosity. “I don't suppose you'd like some tea, would you?”

Tina and Jacob both chuckled, and Newt grinned, finishing up with the harness and bringing the little one safely into his arms. “...No, probably not,” he continued, his voice soft and soothing. “I do have a rattle around here that you might enjoy, though.” He kissed the baby's head, still unaware of Tina's continued eyes on him.

There was silence for a moment, Newt gazing serenely into the infant's sleepy expression. Teddy blinked at him, a spot of spittle bubbling at the corner of his mouth. Newt smiled. He'd been a bit awkward, for awhile, when the first little Kowalski had come along - never having touched a baby in his life, he'd proceeded to clam up completely at the sight of her, his eyes simultaneously longing and terrified at the prospect of actually holding the tiny creature.

He'd acclimated quickly enough, though, with the others' encouragement, immensely pleased to discover that his natural caretaking abilities turned out to be quite as suited to human offspring as they were the more _exotic_ beasts. True, there'd been a lot to learn about this particular species ( _'make sure to support the head' - 'wear a dropcloth on your shoulder if you don't want to make a mess of yourself' – 'she doesn't necessarily want to be fed or changed, sometimes she just wants to be held, or rocked, or sung to'),_ but he seemed to have picked it all up fairly well, if his niece's and nephews's rather considerable affections were any indication. Years later, it was with an expert grace that he rocked the squirming infant in his arms, holding him close to his chest.

“Come on then, little Teddy,” Newt cooed, smiling as he wiped the line of drool from the two-month-old's chin. “Remember me? It's been awhile. Nearly half of your life, as a matter of fact. I hope not to repeat such a long absence.”

Jacob chuckled, cuddling Teddy's twin to his shoulder. In front of him, Tina was busy smiling down at her youngest nephew, her fingers running smoothly over his mass of curls. “Hi, Toby,” she whispered sweetly, crouching slightly to kiss the baby's forehead. The baby looked up at her, blinking with big brown eyes. “Hey sweetheart.”

“You can put him down if you want, they're due for some tummy time anyway,” Jacob commented, walking Toby over to a spare patch of carpet on the other side of the room. Newt followed, clutching Teddy in his arms as Tina moved to spread out a throw blanket for the two babies to lay on.

“There ya go, buddy,” he added gently, carefully lowering his son to the ground. “You want your binkie?” he offered, pulling it from his pocket. “Yeah, you're a happy little guy, aren't y-” Jacob broke off, turning slightly as a snapping sound filled the room. Next to him, Tina straightened, looking eagerly around as the flames turned green again.

A moment later a spinning figure had appeared, a blur of pink swirling elegantly before taking the shape of a very familiar blonde.

Tina grinned, looking into the sparkling eyes of her younger sister. She looked the same as ever, golden-curls bouncing as she flounced out of the fire, every step seeming to emanate with her unique brand of grace. Beside her, their hands linked together, a tiny toddler traipsed along, one thumb sticking stubbornly out of a face that appeared to be her mother's in miniature.

“Ann _Tina!”_ The girl's voice ripped through the room, bubbling with irrepressible enthusiasm before either of the sisters could so much as say hello. Tina laughed, watching as the tiny two-year-old staggered forward, arms outstretched to be picked up. It was the most precious sight, one she never got tired of seeing. Beside her, Queenie smiled, moving toward her husband and baby sons.

Rory let out a spectacular squeal of approval as Tina hoisted her into the air, her loud laugh filling the entire room as she settled into her arms. _“Bonjer!”_ she giggled, looking up at her with excited blue eyes. Tina grinned, chuckling brightly as the little girl planted a wet kiss on her cheek. “Hey, pumpkin,” she said softly, rubbing her nose against her niece's.

A couple yards away, Queenie turned, looking suddenly curious. Tina, distracted by the child wiggling in her arms, noticed nothing.

“Ann Tina, see _brothers?!”_ the little girl asked happily, pointing to where the two babies lay babbling on their stomachs. “I do,” Tina agreed, smiling down at her. She smirked, following Rory's eager gaze as the tot started to unmistakably survey the room. “ _Oh_ \- I _don't_ suppose you wanna play with the _Kneazles?”_ she added playfully, raising her eyebrows tantalizingly. “They've been missing you,” she informed her, her wide eyes serious. Rory's face lit up, a gasp escaping her tiny lips. “ _Minous!”_ she squealed excitedly, starting to wiggling frantically in her arms and repeating the word with gusto.

Tina grinned, setting her down. “You _might_ want to look under the couch,” she whispered, crouched down to breathe conspiratorially in her ear. Rory giggled, darting over to the sofa and hopping down onto her stomach in search of her beloved 'kitties'. Tina smiled, watching her affectionately.

Queenie gasped, her hand going to her mouth. Tina glanced up, their gazes meeting from a few feet away. A moment of thick silence seemed to arise out of nowhere, settling over the room.

“...What's goin' on?” Jacob chuckled, looking up at them from where he sat perched beside Newt on the sofa, watching his sons' futile attempts to crawl. Next to him, Newt looked entranced, watching the exchange carefully.

Queenie was still staring at her, her eyes wide and excited. “Are you-?” she paused, her breath catching. Tina bit her lip, grinning as she nodded her head slightly in acknowledgment.

A shriek rang out through the room, one of the Kneazles darting out from under the couch in alarm. Rory frowned, looking indignant as she teetered after it into the hallway.

“Oh, _Teenie!”_ Queenie looked as if she might literally start hopping up and down, and a breathless squeal escaped as she covered her hand over her mouth, curls bouncing as she moved toward her.

Tina laughed, gasping a little as her sister nearly tackled her. She exhaled with a small sob, letting herself be crushed in the familiar embrace.

“What is it?” Jacob pressed, glancing around at everyone. Newt flushed, meeting Tina's eyes for a moment before he answered.

“We got some very exciting news last week,” he said quietly, his eyes shining as he ducked his head.

“Last _week?!”_ Queenie shrieked, breaking away to assault her sister with an accusatory glare.

“It was only Friday,” Tina laughed, smiling affectionately as Queenie wiped fervently at her dewy eye.

“...Can someone clue me in?” Jacob asked patiently, looking amused. Newt chuckled, running his hand through his hair and raising his eyebrows at the two women.

“Oh, ain't it _obvious_ honey?” Queenie murmured, beaming at her older sister. “They're having a _baby!”_

“You're kiddin'!” Jacob exclaimed, turning excitedly to Newt. He met his green eyes uncertainly, his brown ones widening in surprise. “Oh, man, that's _fantastic_ ,” he added, enveloping the younger man in his embrace. Newt laughed, allowing himself to be swallowed up in the warm hug. Jacob laughed into his shoulder, clapping him enthusiastically on the back. “Would ya look at that. Our shy Mr. English Guy is gonna be a dad.”

Newt's face turned red, but he looked extremely pleased.

On the other side of the room, the sisters were still standing inches apart, surveying each other. “When are you due?” Queenie whispered tearfully, touching her stomach.

“We should know on Thursday,” Tina explained, smiling at her weeping sister. “I have an appointment at St. Mungo's...I think I'm going on two months, give or take a couple weeks,” she added sheepishly.

Queenie nodded, wiping distractedly at her damp cheeks. She'd pulled a pink handkerchief from her pocket; Tina could see the lacy material already darkening with unabashed tears.

“I'm so happy for you, honey,” Queenie murmured, bringing her in for another hug. Tina sighed, relaxing into her sister's arms. She knew her mind must be a mess right now, and felt a sliver of guilt at the headache she knew she was probably plaguing her with, but Queenie said nothing, content to simply share in this moment.

When she spoke again her voice was quiet, low enough for only her sister to hear. “...You're gonna be such a great mom, Teen,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a breath in her ear. Tina tensed, swallowing with a shaky laugh. With that, she knew all her residual fears were an open book to the woman in front of her, and that they were just as easily being assuaged – her worries that she wasn't built for this, that her often-prickly demeanor were well-suited to catching criminals, perhaps, but not for motherhood. Queenie's arms tightened around her, and Tina trembled, her tears matching her sister's now. She nodded slightly, hearing Queenie's giggle in her ear, and the pure warmth and familiarity of that sound was enough to put all her lingering insecurities to rest.

* * *

Half an hour later, things had started to settle down a bit, the group having drifted from the living room into the kitchen, where Queenie and Jacob had set themselves to the task of making dinner, despite Newt and Tina's mild protests at their offer, the words mere routine by now. It had turned into a very warm, pleasant evening, the last of the sunlight drifting in through the open window, casting a glow over the two interwoven families. Jacob and Queenie moved with a long-honed familiarity as they finished up by the stove, laughing and chatting as Newt and Tina tended to the children at the table, their voices more subdued than their counterparts, but no less enamored. Newt smiled, winking at Rory as she clumsily attempted to unfold a cloth napkin over her lap, shooting him a look of mild indignation when he offered to assist her. Across from them, Tina was cooing softly at the tiny figure cradled to her chest, a small smile on her face as she hummed under her breath.

Newt shifted in his chair, his eyes now rooted on the sight. The baby's eyes were closed, his head settled contently against his aunt's shoulder, little lips chugging away at the bottle she held to his mouth. His twin was already cared for, apparently a few minutes ahead in their schedule, for he was now sleeping in the bouncer Tina had first bought for the cottage when Rory was born.

Newt fell quiet, listening to Queenie and Jacob chatter cheerfully a few yards away. Tina was smiling, her expression peaceful as she stroked the baby's cheek. He bit his lip, watching in silence. Seeing her like this, it wasn't at all hard to imagine how she would look with their own little one, and a moment later it had struck him that by this time next year, the image currently in front of him would have already become exceedingly familiar. He found himself wondering vaguely which one of them it might favor – whether it would have dark hair like hers, or a ruddier shade like his own, or perhaps even something in between...he heard Queenie giggle, and felt his face burn. Tina looked at him curiously, but he simply shook his head, continuing to watch her.

“Parsley for your thoughts?” Queenie murmured, pushing a bowl of vegetables toward him. He grimaced slightly, his stomach fluttering at the sound of Tina's laugh.

“Come on, everything's ready,” she added softly, setting down another platter on the table.

“Teenie, you wanna put him down?” she asked quietly, shooting her sister a knowing smile.

“Sure,” she nodded, standing and carrying him to the second bouncer they'd erected in the corner.

They settled into their meal without much fuss, Queenie somehow managing to be even more exuberant than usual as she harangued them with a mixture of questions and supportive comments. Tina laughed at her antics, Rory getting antsy not long after she'd finished eating, and subsequently permitted to climb down from her booster seat and allowed to color quietly in the corner.

Some time later, when their plates had grown lighter and their bodies heavier, the four of them sat comfortably around the table, chatting about the current goings-on in their life – work, Jacob's steadily progressing but still-often hilarious attempts to improve his French, the milestones the children were reaching. The mood was pleasantly relaxed, the effects of delicious food, good company, and beautiful weather taking their toll on them.

“...So how's your dragon friend doin'?” Queenie asked casually, lancing a piece of casserole with her fork.

Newt paused, his heart sinking. He'd been hoping very much this wouldn't come up, though he knew he was fighting a losing battle in attempting to hide anything from Queenie. At the other side of the table, his sister-in-law frowned, studying him a little more intently. “Newt?” she added softly, her blue eyes widening as she took him in.

“Erm – she is....better,” he said carefully, glancing fleetingly at her. “Quite a bit fitter than when we took her in,” he added truthfully, forcing an awkward smile.

Queenie ignored this, her brow furrowing in concentration. Newt sighed, bracing himself for the inevitable as Queenie set down her silverware.“...She ain't gainin' weight?” she asked quietly, wringing her hands in her lap.

Newt paused, wincing slightly. “Not at the rate she ought to be,” he admitted, after a moment.

Queenie's face fell, her lower lip trembling. Jacob frowned, hurriedly trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey - come to think of it, you guys,” he said slowly, leaning forward on his elbows. “How do you even _weigh_ a dragon?” he asked pensively, his voice light and amused as he surveyed the room. “I mean, is there a special scale?” he laughed, glancing at his wife. “A dragon _scale?_ ” he added pointedly.

Newt smiled, glancing up as Queenie suppressed a teary giggle. “There is, actually,” he chuckled, picking absently at his food. “Invented by Adrahasis the Wise circa 1400BC, updated to a spring scale in 1811.”

“ _Well_ , ya learn something new every day,” Jacob said mildly, offering him a sympathetic smile. Newt smiled gratefully, meeting his gaze for a second before glancing down again. “How 'bout _that_ , gorgeous,” Jacob added, nudging his wife with his elbow. “I wouldn't mind seein' that show in person sometime.”

“In that case, I shall keep you apprised,” Newt chuckled, his green eyes sparkling slightly as he gave a weak smile. Jacob's return smile was a little too bright as he grinned back at him, feeling Queenie squeeze his hand under the table.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said appreciatively, glancing around the room. “Say, darlin', what d'you think of us getting together some of the newborn clothes when we get home, for Newt and Tina to use? The boys've already outgrown 'em, and we won't be needing 'em again for awhile yet - maybe we can help these sweet kids get started on their collection.”

Tina smiled, meeting her sister's eyes.

“Oh, that'd be the berries,” Queenie murmured, looking suddenly wistful. “Can you imagine if you had a little girl, Teen? Rory's got so many little left over dresses and booties you could use – oh, and I've still got those baby clothes from when we was little, we'll be passin' 'em on to you now, of course-”

Tina was quiet, swallowing slightly. Queenie beamed at her, and it wasn't long before the conversation had transitioned smoothly back to happier things, all mentions of mistreated creatures forgotten.

* * *

It was pushing eight o'clock when Rory started begging to be taken into the case before they had to leave.

It didn't take either Jacob or Queenie long to relent, both rather eager to return to the incredible portable zoo themselves. Such was how they found themselves wrapping up the evening downstairs, Rory bounding along happily as her mother and aunt chased after her. A short distance away, far enough to chat privately but still within sight of their female counterparts, Newt and Jacob crouched on the planks of what was officially the Nogtail enclosure, though it was out visiting one of its companions at the moment. Instead, their attentions were currently preoccupied by two squirming infants, reawakened from their post-dinner naps and now setting to make clear some of their other pressing needs.

“I gotta tell ya, pal, you seem a helluva lot calmer than I was, first time I was in your shoes,” Jacob admitted, shooting his friend a rueful grin.

Newt glanced up, joining in Jacob's chuckle as he remembered that particular time in their lives. Jacob had indeed been a bit of a wreck for awhile there, worrying feverishly about every little thing and hardly letting Queenie out of his sight without some form of protest. He smiled, looking back down at the baby spread before him. “Yes, well – I suppose I feel I've had a bit of practice, what with the three of yours. To say nothing of a lifetime of caring for my creatures,” he said gently, wiping carefully at the exposed infant. The baby cooed, allowing himself to be cleaned up.

Jacob raised his eyes, looking slightly skeptical as he sprinkled powder onto his older son's skin. “So what, boom, just like that, you're ready for fatherhood? You really ain't nervous at _all?”_

“A bit,” Newt admitted, now fitting his nephew with a fresh diaper. “I have my worries and insecurities on occasion, which Tina puts up with and keeps in check. For the most part, though, I'm just – ecstatic, to be honest.” He felt his cheeks turn pink, but smiled fondly as he snapped together the baby's onesie. “...There you go,” he added, his voice softer. “That's better, isn't it?”

Teddy blinked, drool dribbling across his chin. Newt laughed, wiping it off with his sleeve before taking the child into his arms as he climbed to his feet. Next to him, Jacob did the same, smiling slightly.

“Well, I'm thrilled for ya, buddy. You and Tina are gonna make fantastic parents,” he said earnestly, flashing him a smile.

“Thank you,” Newt said sincerely, his eyes bright as he glanced up at his friend. Jacob smiled back affectionately, his eyes crinkling as he turned back to the second baby still in his arms.

“So how's Tina doin'?” he added lightly a second later, whilst gently stopping his son's sticky fingers from pulling at his hair.

Newt paused, gazing toward the other side of the case. He was silent for a moment, watching as Tina led Rory forward, showing her toward the niffler nest as Queenie hovered nearby. The little girl giggled when the furry creature scrambled eagerly to meet her, petting it tentatively.

“She's been incredible. She's amazing just to watch,” he said quietly, smiling slightly as he glanced back up at her.

“By the way, how do ya think the creatures are gonna react, once they've gotta share you?” Jacob asked curiously, slipping a pacifier into his son's waiting mouth.

Newt smiled, deliberating this for a moment. “About the same as they did when they started having to share me with Tina, I suppose,” he said mildly, flashing him a crooked grin.

“Ehhh, it ain't the same,” Jacob said dubiously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Newt paused, looking pensive. “No, it isn't,” he agreed. “I know it might be tricky, especially the adjustment. We'll manage though. And I do plan on introducing the children early, get them used to it, and I think there's a good chance they'll end up spending quite a bit of time down here-”

“Oh, of course!” Jacob chuckled. “It's a kid's dream, look at Rory.”

Newt smiled slightly, glancing briefly across the case again.

“It's funny you bring it up,” he added, glancing back at him. “I was thinking on starting up a project, actually, to allow the baby to play a bit more freely once it's old enough...Maybe roping off some of the tamer creatures into a special section of the case, create a little petting zoo of sorts where they can explore without needing to worry about -”

“Gettin' eaten?” Jacob teased, and Newt smirked.

“Something like that,” he agreed, shaking his head.

“Seriously, that sounds sharp,” Jacob commented, nodding encouragingly. “I say go for it, man.”

“It'd take quite a bit of work,” Newt added, squinting a bit as he glanced around. “I'd need to completely restructure the case, recreate the habitats, come up with a way to let Tina and I to pass back and forth while still keeping in the little one inside the bounds - perhaps a variation on an Age Line...” he chewed his lip, ruminating on the idea. He sighed, smiling ruefully. “It would be worth it though, knowing they have their own special space to enjoy,” he said timidly, looking thoughtful.

“I'm sure it'll be amazin',” Jacob reassured him, smiling.

Newt glanced at him gratefully, nodding a bit before turning his gaze back to his wife. Several yards away, the niffler was now scurrying over Rory's tiny shoulders, her laughter ringing out as Tina and Queenie watched nearby.

He watched for a few minutes before finally turning his attention back to Jacob's chatter, smiling as he listened to him share the story of a particularly eccentric customer that had visited the bakery the day before. They were soon both in stitches, Newt reddening with amusement while beside him Jacob howled with laughter.

Their easy camaraderie was interrupted a moment later, when the light background noise of the case was drowned out by a single, piercing wail, coming from exactly where he knew the others to have been standing only moments before.

Newt reacted without thought, whipping out his wand as he turned to investigate.

“What the-” Jacob gasped, looking off in the direction of the shrieks.

“Stay here,” Newt commanded, passing off the baby.

It took him a matter of seconds to reach the other side of the enclosure, managing the journey in only a few long strides. He hurried toward the sound of the noise, his stomach sinking as he took in the sight of Rory's red, screaming face.

“What happened?” he asked urgently, kneeling in front of the toddler. His heart skipped a beat as he spotted the blood gushing from the little girl's left hand. Her tears were flowing freely now, the loud cries she was emitting making it difficult for him to be heard. Queenie was already crouched alongside her, trying to get a better look at the injury as she offered soft words of comfort. “Shhh,” she said gently, touching her daughter's face. “Calm down for me sweetie, so we can help you.”

“ _Owie!”_ Rory shrieked, looking tormented.

“I know, baby. It's okay, be brave for me sweetheart...”

Tina was on her knees beside them, her face screwed up with worry.

“Did you see-?” Newt's voice was steady as he met his wife's eyes. She shook her head, looking tearful.

“I was looking the other way – I think it was the murtlap, but I didn't actually _see_ it happen-” She glanced toward her sister, who was now gently prodding the two-year-old to show them her wound.

“No, you're right. That's a murtlap bite,” Newt muttered under his breath, surveying the damage for a moment before straightening. His heart was slowly returning to its normal rhythm, though he still sounded a bit hoarse when he spoke again. “Come on darling, let's get you fixed up.” He lifted the child into his arms, kissing her tear-stained cheek as he carried her toward the shed, both women on his heels.

“What happened?” Jacob asked anxiously, joining them as they approached.

“Like father, like daughter,” Newt said ruefully, shooting a small smile at him over his shoulder as he hurried past. Rory was sniffling, her face buried in his chest. Jacob frowned, looking worried.

“Stay with the boys, honey, she'll be alright,” Queenie murmured, touching his arm before hurrying to catch up. She rejoined them just as they entered the shed, Newt already Summoning the ingredients as he settled the little girl into his chair.

“Can I help?” Tina asked breathlessly, watching his careful movements.

“Crush the echinacea roots, please,” Newt nodded, spreading jars across his workbench. He bent low, his voice gentle as he gazed into his niece's blue eyes. “Can you swallow this for me?” he added, crouching in front of her. “I know it looks yucky, but it'll make the owie not hurt so much.”

Rory gazed at it dubiously, turning her head away as Newt prodded at her mouth.

“Go on, honey. We'll get you a treat later, if you're a good girl for Uncle Newt,” Queenie said softly, offering her daughter a winning smile.

Rory pouted, reluctantly sticking out her tongue to accept the medicine.

“That's a girl. Chew and swallow,” he coaxed, standing back up as Rory made a face at his back, tears still leaking down her cheeks. Her crying lessened a moment later, the pain reliever clearly doing its job.

“Here we are. Let's see your hand, then, it won't hurt,” he promised, and Rory's lip trembled as she allowed Newt to rub a balm over the bite marks. “We caught it early, there won't even be a scar,” he added, his voice soothing as Queenie squeezed the little girl's good hand.

“Are you making an anti-itch serum?” Tina asked from behind them, her eyes scanning the materials. Newt nodded, glancing briefly at her over his shoulder.

“I've got it. You stay with her,” Tina said steadily, her brow creasing with concentration.

Newt turned back to the toddler in front of him, pulling out his wand. “Hello. Can you hold still for me?” he asked gently, offering her his best smile.

Rory blinked at him, and Queenie chuckled, answering for her. “I doubt it,” she giggled ruefully, taking hold of her daughter's arm. “Here, I've got her-”

Newt nodded, moving his wand slowly over the girl's wound as he began crooning a spell she'd never heard before. Tina glanced up from behind him, already engrossed in her potion-making, but didn't comment. Rory was silent as he worked, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Newt smiled slightly a moment later, lowering his wand.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked softly. Rory shook her head.

“Uncanoot, I got owie,” she said tearfully, clutching her wrist.

“Yes, you did. You were very brave though, and you're all better now, aren't you?”

Rory opened her eyes slowly, looking curiously at her hand. “All better?” she repeated. Newt smiled; next to him, Queenie beamed, kissing her cheek. Rory was quiet, her fingers now tracing hesitantly over the recently healed skin. “Bye owie,” she said softly, her brow furrowing.

“That's right, baby. It went bye-bye,” Queenie nodded, smiling as she swept her into her arms. “Thank you,” she added, turning to Newt. He nodded, not quite meeting her gaze. Tina glanced at him as she approached with the finished healing salve, privately thinking he looked a bit pale, but didn't comment, figuring she probably wasn't faring much better.

Ten minutes later they'd assembled back in the kitchen, Rory slurping happily at an ice cream cone as her parents fawned over her, both of them laughing as she recounted to them her adventures in the case. A small bandage was affixed to her hand, a precaution against any lingering infections, but other than that, there was no sign anything had ever been amiss.

A few feet away, however, Tina was staring stoically into her untouched bowl, her lips pursed in a thin line. Newt frowned, watching her from across the table.

“...Can I talk to you?” she asked finally, her soft voice directed at the ice cream rather than toward anyone in particular. Newt stood immediately, and she glanced up for a moment before redirecting her gaze.

“No, I meant Queenie,” she said hoarsely, rubbing her hands on her thighs under the table.

“Oh -” Newt nodded, looking flustered as he sat back down.

Queenie stood, looking curious.

“Honey? Are you alright?” she asked sweetly, following her out of the kitchen. Tina was silent, only turning to her when they reached the foot of the stairs at the other side of the cottage, well out of earshot of the others. She exhaled slowly, still staring at the ground.

“Teenie? You okay?” she prompted again, her eyes widening in concern as she took in her expression.

Tina blinked, frowning as she forced herself to meet her sister's gaze. “I'm so sorry. I-”

“Whoa, whoa, honey-” Queenie blanched, Tina's thoughts suddenly rolling over her like a tidal wave. “Honey, I'm not upset – it was an accident!” She stared at her, biting her lip to keep from crying, overcome by the borrowed emotions.

“We shouldn't have brought them down there,” Tina murmured, looking anguished. “I'm so sorry-”

“She loves it down there,” Queenie said softly, gazing at her in confusion.

“It was dangerous.”

“Newt was there, I knew nothing serious could've happened.” Queenie paused, surveying her intently. “Teen – you know I think it's a _good_ thing for her to visit...I wanted her to be exposed to all the _amazing_ things the world has to offer, show her how lucky she is to have the family she has, to even _get_ to see all that magic-”

Tina's breathing was sharp, her face a mottled gray color. “What if it'd been something else, something more dangerous?”

“We don't bring her near the ones that are dangerous,” Queenie reminded her, her forehead creasing.

“Jacob still has the scar from when the murtlap bit _him_ ,” Tina pointed out, her breath catching.

Queenie frowned, her tone light. “Yeah, and you've still got the scar from falling off the swings at Central Park twenty years ago. So what?”

Tina held her breath, exhaling slowly as she contemplated her sister's words. She paused, taking her time before meeting her gaze again. “I just –”she gasped, her shoulders shaking for a moment. “I'm sorry. I-”

“Hey. She's fine, hon,” Queenie said gently, resting her hand on her shoulder. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I doubt it'll be the last time, neither.”

Tina was silent, swallowing. “I-”

“ _Teenie_. She's alright. She's gonna get hurt sometimes, she just is.” Queenie smiled slightly, looking rueful.

Tina nodded slowly, blinking back tears.

“They get _hurt_ , Teen. They're – they're _resilient_ , though,” she explained, giggling a little. “Sometimes I think it's harder for us, watching, than it actually is for them-”

“I dunno, Rory was crying pretty hard there for awhile,” Tina muttered, wiping her eyes.

Queenie smiled. “She was tired, honey. It's past her bedtime-”

“You should get them home,” Tina nodded, wiping her eyes.

“We'll leave soon. She's having a good time,” she said softly, finding her sister's hand and squeezing it. She hesitated, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Hey. Teen.”

Tina glanced up, pushing down the lump in her throat. Queenie beamed, looking radiant as her eyes washed over her. “I meant what I said earlier, you know,” she continued. “ _You_ are gonna be a _great_ mom.”

Tina swallowed a sob, allowing herself to be swept up in her sister's embrace. It was a few minutes before they actually broke apart, Queenie's hand still wrapped firmly in hers.

* * *

That night, Tina curled neatly against Newt's shoulder under the covers, neither speaking for several moments within the sanctuary of the darkness. She was silent as he began stroking her back, silently admiring the way her skin shone like pearls under the moonlight.

“We're going to need to enhance the wards on the case,” Tina said finally, her voice soft and sober. Newt nodded, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“Yes. I'd already began giving that some thought, actually,” he said gently, squeezing her hand. Tina exhaled slowly, somewhat relieved at how easily he'd acquiesced.

“It's not that I don't want them playing down there,” she said tentatively, after a moment.

“I know,” he said quickly, his voice growing thicker. She smiled slightly, nodding into his chest.

They were both quiet for awhile, and she knew they were having the same thoughts.

“Do you think I overreacted?” she asked hesitantly.

“No. I think it was a perfectly natural, understandable reaction,” he said firmly, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “I was scared, too.”

“You were scared?” She lifted her head, scrutinizing him intently.

“Terrified,” he said confidently. “...I wouldn't have dreamed there'd be so much blood.”

“You handled it well,” she said fairly, settling her chin on his shoulder.

“Oh – well.” He smiled, looking suddenly flustered.

“Thank you for acting so fast,” she said sincerely, watching him with a small smile. “I think we were all relieved she was in such good hands.”

Newt seemed unsure how to react to this, as he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He brought his hand to her hair, stroking it in small, deliberate movements. After a moment, he spoke.

“Tina, are you worried?”

She hesitated, slightly surprised that he'd been the one to actually confront the issue.

“...No,” she said slowly, after a long moment. Newt waited tentatively for her to continue, gazing silently at the bedspread.

“I can't say I'm _excited_ about the idea about them possibly getting-” (' _bit or stung or burned or Isolt knows what else_ ' she thought, but refrained from saying this) “hurt,” she said instead, “but I know it's going to happen whether we want it to or not. And I know if they do,” she said thoughtfully, her voice growing softer, “They've got the foremost expert on magical creatures in the world to help them.”

He grinned, his face turning red. “I-”

Tina laughed, kissing him softly. He drew back gingerly a minute later, caressing her cheek, until he noticed the slight flicker of discomfort in her expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.

“Um – yeah.” She grimaced, starting to sit up. “I'm just - I think I'm going to have some of that Prenatal Potion, I'm feeling kind of-”

“Let me get it for you,” he offered, kissing her forehead.

She relented without fuss, leaning back against the pillows. She was quiet as she listened to him rummage around in the bathroom, thinking intently to herself.

“Were you so sure I was going to say something else?” she asked curiously, as he returned.

“Hmm?” He glanced at her, handing her the bottle and a spoon as he crawled back into bed. She took a sip, making a face.

“Before. Did you think I was going to say I was still upset?”

Newt frowned, looking pensive. “Well-”

Tina smirked, eyeing him with amusement. “It's not like I think you're going to dangle them over the Runespoor nest,” she teased.

Newt chuckled. “I appreciate that. You might be the only one, I'm afraid.”

“Hey.” She frowned, her voice a bit firmer now. “No one thinks that, Newt.”

“I'm afraid I'm quite sure they do,” he said mildly, looking painfully resigned.

“Well – they're wrong. And I don't care what they think,” she said quietly. Newt smiled slightly, gazing at the bedclothes. “...Hey,” she said again, more softly this time. She reached out, tipping his chin up with his fingers.

“Rory adores you. The boys adore you.”

“They do, don't they?” he admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“ _I_ adore you,” she murmured, playing with the tendrils at the back of his neck. “I think odds are our baby will too.”

“Yes, well, fingers crossed then,” he said lightly, only half-joking.

“Well, if this one doesn't, the next one will,” she joked back, and he laughed for real now, meeting her eyes.

“C'mere,” she muttered, and his smile grew, leaning forward into her kiss. It grew heated quickly, but she pulled away after a minute, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry-”

“Please. Don't apologize,” he said sweetly, catching on to her dilemma. “You're growing our child, you need rest and relaxation.” He stroked her cheek. “Is there anything I can bring you?”

She stared at him for a minute, then dove forward, kissing him feverishly. He couldn't help his eager reaction, sinking into her kiss and moaning contently. She broke away after several long seconds, struggling to catch her breath.

“...Sorry,” she repeated, laughing ruefully. “I want to, I just-”

“I quite understand,” he said gently, cupping her face.

She gazed at him silently for awhile, her eyes shining with barely-contained affection.

“Come on,” he said softly, easing her back against the pillows. “Let's get some sleep, shall we?”

She smiled, settling in under the covers, Newt still on his side, watching her.

“Good night,” he said quietly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. He sat up a little, scooting down to press his lips to her abdomen. “Good night,” he repeated wistfully, stroking the bit of skin revealed where her pajama top had ridden up. Tina sighed, shifting to give him more room.

A minute or so later they'd both gotten comfortable, Tina's breathing becoming more shallow and even as Newt began to plant light, unassuming kisses along her shoulder and face, rubbing her stomach soothingly.

“Is this alright?” he whispered, checking in with her. “Would you prefer not to be touched?”

“It's nice,” she murmured sleepily. Newt smiled.

“Try and get some sleep,” he said gently, continuing to rub her stomach. Tina nodded, yawning into her hand.

That night she dreamed of a son who strained her last nerve, whose penchant for mischief and danger managed to rival that of both of his parents. His presence was scattered across the case – a forgotten sweater left in the Demiguise nest, a 'research journal' hidden haphazardly in the branches of one of the trees in the Knarl exhibit - and Newt laughed to discover these items during his rounds, his green eyes twinkling as he feigned a stern voice in order to chide the eight-year-old about picking up after himself. The boy gazed back at him, wide-eyed, and though his dark hair and coloring were undoubtedly Tina's, it was his own most innocent expression he recognized peering up at him. In the dream, Tina laughed to watch them, beaming as she cradled the baby to her chest. She felt a wave of contentment wash over her, and she slept with a smile on her face.

 


	10. Big and Small

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know there's no mention of mundane issues like pregnancy being treated at St. Mungo's, but it makes sense to me that they would be, because as Newt says, their “physiologies are subtly different.” Besides, you can't have a Muggle doctor trying to deal with a pregnant witch vomiting up slugs or something, can you? EXACTLY. #HeadCanonAccepted

It was funny, Newt reflected, how wildly different the same place could seem given an entirely new set of circumstances. For example - he'd had the waiting room of this hospital memorized by the time he could comb his own hair (not that he usually _did_ , particularly), yet he could not recall a single instance in which he'd ever sat in these chairs and felt pleased, excited even.

And yet. Newt grinned, his eyes darting around the familiar décor.

He'd been waiting nearly a week for this appointment, when they'd finally be able to follow-up on the news they'd received last Friday, and hopefully even be able to discern a due date for the birth of their child.

He knew the process was slightly more complicated than the usual circumstances, as Tina had a habit of using her Contraceptive Potion to skip her cycles, but they'd been assured that the imaging charm they were going to undergo would be able to give the Healer a good look at the baby's development, and from there allow her to work out how far the pregnancy had already progressed. If she was past eight weeks, they might even get the chance to hear the baby's heartbeat.

Newt let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, his leg bouncing excitedly. Next to him, Tina stifled a yawn.

Newt glanced over at her, barely suppressing his rueful grin. She'd had a rough start to the day, hit by a bout of morning sickness by the time he'd come back up from the case, and it didn't help that they'd had to be out the door terribly early in order to arrive in time for their appointment. Still, he thought he could detect a certain excited gleam in her eye from where she sat, the top few inches of her head peeking out above the magazine she was now using to shield her face.

“Newt,” she hissed, interrupting his reverie.

“Yes?” he asked promptly, turning toward her in his tightly-cramped wooden chair. He usually hated these chairs, had since he was a child, but today he thought they seemed rather comfortable – perhaps a bit rigid, the cushions a tad understuffed, with a garish pattern that held itself in direct opposition of the tenets of all forms of artistic sensibilities he'd ever encountered in his many travels - but sturdy, _dependable,_ all the same.

Tina eyed him beadily for a moment from over her magazine, her voice low. “Stop squirming,” she commanded, flashing him an apologetic smile to help soften her harsh words.

“So sorry.” He flushed, beaming at her.

She grimaced, looking rueful as she shifted her weight in the chair. He knew she still wasn't feeling well, and was tempted to suggest they return home for a bit after they were done here, given that they'd both taken the entire morning off in preparation for this visit. Upon reflection, he decided to wait, thinking he might have a better shot of agreeing if he held off until after the appointment, when she might be in a better mood.

Feeling inexpressibly cheered by this happy thought, Newt set to gazing merrily around the waiting room, attempting to observe their fellow hospital-goers without actually making eye contact with any of them.

“Porpentina?”

Newt glanced up, immediately alert. Next to him, Tina made a face, climbing slowly to her feet as Newt reached out his arm to assist her. A chestnut-haired witch, several inches shorter and perhaps a decade or so older than he was, greeted them with a smile. Newt's hand slipped into Tina's as the Assistant Healer led them down a corridor, finally stopping when they stood in front of a small row of lifts.

“Steady, there, love, this has been known to make witches in their first trimester a wee bit queasy,” the witch said gently as they stepped inside the nearest one, and Tina shot her a slightly withering look, unable to stop herself. “I think I can manage,” she said politely, twirling her wand in the pocket of her cloak.

The Aide looked somewhat dubious, but merely pursed her lips in reply. A moment later the lift gave a sudden jerk, and Tina gasped, releasing her wand in favor of clutching her stomach.

“Mercy _Lewis-_ ”

She blanched, her grip on Newt's hand tightening as the vestibule continued sideways, rather than up or down as she'd expected. Newt frowned, his free hand moving to her waist to bring her closer as the speed suddenly seemed to increase again, the direction altering without warning to fly backward as well. Newt swallowed as Tina let out a quiet groan, burying her head in his shoulder.

It seemed an unnaturally long time until the lift finally came to a halt, Tina giving him a silent look of thanks as they tentatively separated.

“Alright, dearie?” the dark-haired witch asked with slight concern as the doors slid open, revealing a section of St. Mungo's that looked, despite Newt's many visits to this hospital over the years, hitherto completely unfamiliar to him. Tina glared in reply.

“Just in here, love,” the Aide said a moment later, directing them into a small room. As far as he could tell, it looked like a standard hospital room, though Newt couldn't help noticing all the posters on the walls featured moving illustrations of babies, as well as a few rather intricate depictions of women's internal reproductive systems. He felt a slight twinge at his cheeks, averting his gaze back to his wife as they moved further into the room.

“We're just in for a check-up and determination of due date, yes?” the Aide asked, checking her chart.

“Yes,” Tina confirmed, hovering near the examination table.

“Alright, dear. Can you step up on the scale for me?”

Tina shrugged, slipping off her cloak without comment and stepping onto the small, mechanical-looking object pushed against the wall. A few seconds passed before the scale gave a buzz of excitement, then settled down, calculating.

The room was silent now, save for the mild scratching of a quill, and Tina watched as a wisp of red fog rose slowly into the air, twisting and spiraling for a few moments until it broke apart to form three separate digits. They glowed brightly for a moment before darkening to a cool maroon, hovering indiscriminately as the Aide marked them on her chart. Newt looked unfazed at their appearance, but Tina's face burned as she took them in, her eyes widening slightly. “Um –”

The Aide glanced up, raising her eyebrow mildly. “Something wrong, love?”

Tina frowned, shaking her head. “I'm sorry, it's just – that must be off, or something-” She faltered, hesitating off the witch's curious look. “...Check my file,” she urged, gesturing to the clipboard. “That's almost _ten pounds_ heavier than I was during my last physical. I don't think it's possible I could've put on nearly that much,” she added, rubbing self-consciously at her arms. “My _clothes_ wouldn't fit.” The Aide paused, considering her for a moment.

“...Well, you're quite tall,” she said fairly, eyeing her appraisingly. “If it was evenly distributed, I expect the difference wouldn't be particularly noticeable.”

Tina paused, frowning as she took this in. “Is that normal? That kind of weight gain during the first trimester?” she inquired, her brows knitting.

The Aide shrugged, looking unconcerned. “It varies. That number's a bit on the high side, but for a woman your size – you're awfully slim, dear – I'd consider it a good thing. We'll keep an eye on it, but I wouldn't give it much thought, just so long as you're eating well and feel like you have enough energy to move around.” She gave her a reassuring sort of smile, making a note of something on her clipboard.

Tina nodded almost imperceptibly, stepping off the scale with a slight grimace. Newt, she noticed, actually looked rather cheered. Tina rolled her eyes a little, still feeling vaguely unsettled as she seated herself on the examination table.

“ _So_ \- how have you been doing, Mrs. Scamander?” The Aide slipped her quill behind her ear, giving her a look of rapt attention. “Any questions, concerns?”

“Um – I don't think so,” she said hesitantly, frowning a bit as the paper beneath her made an annoying crinkling sound. “Other than wondering about my due date, of course.”

The Aide smiled. “Well, we should be able to answer that for you by the time we're finished here.” She glanced down at her chart. “Morning sickness still mild?”

“Yes.”

“Appetite good?”

“Obviously,” Tina said dryly, as Newt swallowed his chuckle. The Aide smiled slightly.

“Any more fainting spells?”

“No, nothing like that,” Tina replied, and the Aide nodded, setting the chart down on the counter.

“Excellent. I'm just going to take your blood pressure and pulse, a couple preliminary samples, then I'll pop out to drop them off in the lab and check in the Healer before we move you to your room,” she said smoothly, pulling out her wand from the pocket of her robes.

“Do we have to take the elevator again?” Tina asked nervously, and the older woman smiled.

“No,” she assured her, chuckling. “It's just down the other end of the wing.”

Tina nodded, breathing slightly easier, though still looking noticeably tense. She was silent as she went along with the Aide's request for various bodily fluids, Newt not bothering to hide his excitement as she was poked and prodded and examined.

“...Well, so far, so good, hm?” he said mildly, squeezing her hand as the door closed behind the Aide a few minutes later.

Tina turned, surveying him with disbelief.

“Erm – stomach still feeling off?” he asked sympathetically, considering her with slight uncertainty.

She sighed, bowing her head against her chest. “It's barely nine o'clock in the morning, and I have already thrown up _twice_ ,” she muttered wearily, looking exhausted. “Then I almost did it _again_ on the elevator, in public I might add, and now I hear that apparently _I'm_ already carrying around the equivalent of a robust-sized infant, and we're not even two months in.”

Newt smiled sympathetically, a crease appearing in his forehead. “...I'm glad to hear you're eating well,” he confessed, his expression earnest. “I was a bit worried, some of the stories in those pamphlets they gave us...” She faced him with a shrewd grimace.

“...Sorry,” she sighed, after a moment. “I guess I'm just – tired. And sore. And cranky.” She smiled sheepishly. “You could have mentioned I was getting bigger, you know. It's actually kind of nice, I was just caught a little by surprise, there.”

“I didn't even notice,” he said honestly, stepping closer as she shifted on the table. She raised her eyebrows, smirking doubtfully. “Alright, I realized you were getting a tad softer, but you're hardly _big_ ,” he said gently, looking wistful. _“_ I just presumed it was normal, you're having a _baby_ , after all...and I certainly haven't had any complaints,” Newt murmured, lowering his voice as he kissed lightly just below her ear. Tina smiled, squirming a little as he moved down to her neck.

“We'll talk fifty pounds from now,” she said wryly, but Newt merely hummed, squeezing her hand.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered reverently, his breath catching as he pressed his lips to her throat. “You'll always be beautiful, and that's nothing to do with a number on a scale,” he added softly, his voice drifting tenderly from just outside her ear. Tina sighed, closing her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, turning her head slightly so she could meet his gaze. Newt hesitated, his smile slipping a bit in his concern.

“Were you actually worried?” he asked uncertainly, his eyes traveling over her face.

Tina bit her lip, closing her eyes as she buried her head in his shoulder. “I'm not –”, she began, unsure how to explain it. “I don't know. It just caught me off guard. There are all these changes kinda hitting me all at once.”

“They're wonderful changes,” he said sincerely, pressing a kiss to her crown. He paused, looking somewhat trepidant again. “I - don't mean to suggest you shouldn't complain if something upsets you. I just want you to know -” he paused, his free hand traveling carefully to her stomach. Tina smiled, catching it in her own.

“I know,” she said softly, and Newt's face lit up as he took in her wistful expression.

Their rather intimate moment was interrupted a second later by the sound of the door opening, and they both turned, watching the Healer's Aide reenter the little room.

“All ready, dears?” she asked expectantly, picking up the chart from the counter. Tina nodded, slipping off the exam table.

A few minutes later they were settled into a more comfortable-looking hospital room, this one filled with several pieces of strange-looking equipment, all of which seemed to have a very specific purpose and none of which Tina could honestly say she'd ever seen in her life. The same style of poster lined the walls here, forming a mixture of pictures of smiling, crawling babies and brightly-colored informational displays.

Tina was sitting comfortably in the bed, her back against a pile of pillows as Newt waited patiently in a chair he'd pulled up, stroking her arm absently as both worked on filling out a set of forms the Aide had presented them with before setting off again. It was tedious and vaguely exhausting, though he knew it must be ten times worse for Tina, having to answer detailed questions about her family history she likely had no way of knowing or finding out. Still, she seemed to be in good spirits, her excitement building the longer they were there.

It was nearly fifteen minutes before they finally heard the door opening again, a raven-haired witch appearing in the threshold, her hazel eyes tired but kind as she greeted them with a smile.

“Good morning, Scamanders,” she said brightly, stepping into the room. “I hear you're eager to learn your due date.”

“Yes, please,” Tina said softly, exchanging a small smile with her husband.

“Well, let's start with a checkup, make sure everything is in order,” the Healer said smoothly, and Tina nodded, feeling suddenly reenergized.

Ten minutes later, she was starting to feel grateful she'd taken the entire morning off for this. She tried to be patient as she was, once again, poked and prodded, this time with everything from the Healer's wand, to what looked like some sort of metallic, old-fashioned No-Maj contraption, but her anticipation was nothing to what Newt seemed to be going through. He watched everything with interest, posing complicated scientific-sounding questions she didn't always fully understand, but he seemed satisfied with the Healer's answers.

“Excellent,” Healer Phanes said finally, after a series of examinations Tina only vaguely followed the explanations of. “You're in very good health, Tina. Your blood pressure was a bit high, but that's normal for mothers in your line of work - many of whom I've treated and seen deliver perfectly healthy, happy babies,” she pointed out, and her expression was a bit too understanding. “Just remember that it's something to keep in mind in the months going forward, and try to take it a bit easier for awhile.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Tina said with conviction, with a small determined smile.

“Good girl.” The Healer smiled, patting her shoulder. She looked from one excited face to the other, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “Alright, Mum and Dad,” she said primly, taking her wand back from the pocket of her robes. Tina heard Newt inhale sharply at her words, and smiled as she gave his hand a firm squeeze. “Let's see if we can't get a look at Junior.” Healer Phanes smiled warmly, turning back to her. “Can you lie back and unbutton your blouse for me?”

She obeyed with fumbling fingers, Newt beaming when her still fairly flat stomach came into view.

“When do you think I might start showing?” she asked tentatively, an embarrassed smile spreading across her cheeks.

“This is your first pregnancy, yes?” the Healer confirmed, glancing quickly at the chart.

“Yes,” she chuckled, as she and Newt exchanging another pleased-looking smile.

“Well, you can usually expect the first signs of a genuine bump between twelve and sixteen weeks, though of course, you may find your robes a bit tighter even before that as a result of bloating and weight gain, both of which are completely normal and nothing to worry about,” she said kindly. Tina gave her a small smile.

“Twelve to sixteen weeks,” she repeated, nodding confidently. “And – when will that be?” she added sheepishly, smiling demurely. Next to her, Newt chuckled, ducking his head.

“Let's find out, shall we?” the Healer said pleasantly, Summoning a jar of what looked like some sort of salve from one of the supply cupboards. “Before we get started, do you have any questions about how this works?”

Tina shook her head, glancing at Newt for confirmation that he was doing the same. “We read the literature Healer Fortescue gave me last week, I think we've both got the general idea. It's sort of like taking a picture of the baby with echolocation, right?”

“A bit,” Healer Phanes nodded, looking thoughtful. “Well, then - this here,” she added, unscrewing the top of the jar, “allows us to get a clearer picture, so I'm going to spread some across your stomach. None of this will hurt, but the gel can be a tad cold, I'm afraid.”

“Okay,” Tina said calmly, with another nod.

“The first image I'll bring up will be very hard to see, because I'm going to keep it true-to-size at first, just to give you an idea of how small it actually is – which will also help me discern just how far along you are,” the Healer continued. “After that, I'll be able to enlarge it, and you'll get a better impression of how it's coming along.”

“Right.” Tina took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“Everyone ready?” she prompted.

They both nodded.

Tina shivered as the Healer rubbed the jelly-like material across her skin, Newt using his free hand to stroke her hair, his eyes on every move the Healer made. She was whispering under her breath as she worked, her wand held a few inches over Tina's stomach, murmuring strange spells Tina didn't recognize, an endless string of ancient syllables which sounded neither Latin nor Greek.

Tina was quiet, holding her breath in anticipation. Eventually she was lathered to the Healer's satisfaction, as she sent the jar flying back to its place in the cupboard, watching as it slid neatly onto the shelf.

“Alright, m'dear,” Healer Phanes said softly, her eyes shining as she surveyed her with a knowing smile. “Would you like to meet your baby?”

Tina nodded quickly, swallowing as the older woman brought her wand back to her stomach. When she pulled it away, a pearly string came with it, swaying tenuously from the tip. The sight made Newt twitch beside her, his eyes wide and eager.

The string seemed to be made of neither liquid nor smoke, but rather something in between. The color, too, was difficult to distinguish; it seemed to be composed of a spectrum, glittered and changing like a rainbow from every angle. After a few moments, however, during which it swirled and danced in a series of double helixes, it finally began to settle. The rainbow of colors faded slowly, stopping once it had transformed into a pale, distinctive purple. At the same time, it began to tentatively, gradually take shape, coiling into something close to the size of a grape. Both Newt and Tina leaned forward, mouths open. Newt's green eyes cascaded over the minuscule being, trying to take in everything at once.

It was, as the Healer had said, difficult to make out many of the details at this size, but he could clearly make out tiny paddle-like appendages that were the beginning of arms and legs. It did not much resemble the almost alien-like drawings of early embryonic development he'd been expecting, and the significance hit him like a wave; they were, truly, well on their way to having an actual baby.

He felt the tears brimming and was helpless to suppress them, wiping his face hurriedly as one slipped out. Tina seemed to be faring little better; her shoulders were trembling, a look of awe on her face as Newt forced himself to tear his eyes away from the image long enough to take in his wife's reaction. Her hand in his had become an iron, vice-like grip, and he smiled, kissing it before turning back to the floating vision.

Healer Phanes gave them a few moments before she spoke, almost as if she were a bit reluctant to interrupt their reverie. “From the size alone, I can say you're probably between eight and nine weeks,” she said lightly, looking at the smoky figure with professional appraisal. “I can make it bigger whenever you're ready,” she added gently, turning her gaze back to the couple. “Would you like a physical photo record to take home?”

“Yes,” Newt whispered immediately, a bit amazed that he'd been able to successfully form words.

“Of course.” She smiled, moving over to retrieve a camera from one of the store cupboards, and snapped a few shots as the pair continued to examine the nebulous marvel floating in front of them.

“I can take more once we've enlarged it if you like, then we'll send you an owl sometime within the next few days once we've gotten them developed,” she continued, setting the camera down on one of the counters lining the walls.

“Thank you,” Newt breathed, his eyes still on the image of what was rapidly developing into his child. He swallowed, his green eyes intent on the gift in front of him.

“...Can you – can you make it a bit bigger, please?” Tina asked softly, her eyes, too, still locked on the apparition.

A moment later she'd gasped, joining her husband in wiping shakily at her damp cheeks.

The figure was now several times enlarged, though still small enough to easily fit in the palm of her hand. Like this, it became more and more obvious what exactly they were looking at, and the sight caused her lip to tremble. Though it didn't quite look like a proper “baby” yet, she could see, already, the inklings of what was to come – fused eyes, the beginnings of earlobes, distinctive little fingers cupping its face...

“Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” the Healer asked patiently.

It took her a moment to nod, unable to find her voice.

Healer Phanes smiled, and when she spoke she sounded far, far calmer than Tina thought the situation warranted. Pressing her wand again to Tina's stomach, she murmured a soft “ _Sonorus_.”

Tina registered Newt's shuddered gasp from her right, her own breath hitching as a soft pounding sound filled the room, quiet and rhythmic. It was the purest thing she'd ever heard, simultaneously purposeful and soothing.

“Yes. I'd say you're just shy of nine weeks,” Healer Phanes confirmed, studying the image. “Which means you're about to come into a very important part of development over the next few weeks, so you'll want to be extra careful to get enough rest and nutrient-rich food to help things along.”

Tina barely heard her, her mind still on the steady _boom, boom, boom_ flooding her ears. Healer Phanes looked from one awestruck face to another, the corners of her lips twitching in amusement.

“If you'd like, I can duck out, calculate your official due date and give the two of you a moment alone.”

Neither one of them responded, and Healer Phanes smiled, nodding slightly to herself before slipping back into the corridor, apparently unnoticed.

Tears were already prickling at Newt's eyes as the door closed behind her, and he leaned forward hastily in his chair the moment the door had closed, pressing his head to the side of Tina's.

“Do you hear it?” she asked softly, her voice slightly dazed. The heartbeat was as constant as ever, still pounding diligently as Newt smiled into her hair.

“They're strong, like their mother,” he said quietly, his breath shuddering slightly. He was beside himself, his vision blurring as he wiped away the stubborn tears.

“Look,” she said softly, guiding the vision closer to them with her wand. It hovered calmly in the air, allowing them to take it all in. The being seemed to hold a unique sort of magic of its own, something wondrous, his hopeful daydreams for the future suddenly becoming all the more real. He reached out, his fingers brushing at its knuckles.

He gasped, his eyes welling. “...That's our baby,” he murmured thickly, gazing at it with open adoration. Tina sighed, her shoulders shaking.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice catching a bit. “That's our baby.”

* * *

Two hours later Newt's cheerful grin of that morning had scarcely budged, and he hummed softly to himself as he worked on reinforcing one of the magical boundaries keeping a mother dragon and her calves safely ensconced. It was turning into another beautiful summer's day, though a little cooler here in the mountains than it'd been in London or Dorset. Above him, the sky was a breathtaking cloudless blue, the air filled with sounds of sleepy roars and distant birds chirping. Newt paused in his work, wondering, all of a sudden, what it would be like to bring a child here.

He'd been seven when he'd seen his first dragon. He remembered it well, the decades spanning as thin as silk as he thought back to that incredible day.

He'd been going on for months about the colony he'd read about, the Eilean Leòdhas Reservation ( _'to use its proper name'_ ), just off the coast of Scotland. That was were the MacFusty Clan dwelled, the traditional caretakers (as he would inform anyone would who listen) of the Hebridean Black, one of only two pure dragon breeds native to Britain. He'd pored over the illustrations, jaw dropping as he studied the moving pictures, which had seemed to come alive on the page.

It was traditional on a witch or wizard's seventh birthday to make it a bit of an occasion, and his mother had risen to the opportunity magnificently. He would never forget the sheer excitement that had swelled in his chest as his mother had whispered in his ear what words to say when he stepped inside the fireplace. Her freckled face had matched his own as she rubbed her nose against his, grinning madly. A tear had been streaking down his face as he bolted into the flames.

They'd had to wait for what felt like _hours_ , listening to a tour full of factoids he'd already memorized, before Aila MacFusty had led them outside, Newt's sweaty hand clinging to his mother's.

He'd heard it before he'd seen it, a bellowing roar that had rattled his bones. He'd darted forward, following the sounds as his mother hurried behind him, laughing merrily at his excitement.

They'd found her sipping serenely from a stream - thirty feet long and several solid tons of iron and muscle. Newt had halted at the sight, his chest tightening as he breathed in sharp gasps.

She'd been as black as the night sky, and no less terrifying, though Newt had beamed as he took her in, tears flowing openly down his cheeks. When she'd looked at him - _right at him!,_ he insisted later to his mother - her purple eyes stared right through him, cutting into his very soul.

Newt sighed heavily, smiling at the memory. He gazed out at the sweeping landscape, watching as a six-month-old dragon whelp bolted after its sibling and their mother. In his mind, an image came to him, stark and bright – a little girl with Tina's face, freckles on her cheeks and dark hair flying behind her in the wind. She gasped as he led her forward, clutching her hand firmly as they took in the enormous creatures in the distance. He could see her awed smile, pushing to move closer before he tightened his grip. Newt swallowed, his heart swelling as he closed his eyes, praying for this wish, too, to become reality.

A quiet _crack_ sprang through the dry mountain air, breaking him from his reverie. He glanced up, the familiar figure of Cal Alderton appearing a few yards away, his midnight blue robes flapping in the wind. “Hello again,” he said mildly, catching Newt's eye. “Good lunch?”

“Excellent, you can help me,” Newt straightened, giving his wand a final wave. “We're short - Elsie and Graham had to go help out in the North end, a fight broke out between two alpha females.”

Cal grimaced, shaking his head. “Adina and Essie?”

“Who else?” Newt sighed, managing a loose chuckle.

“We ought to transfer one of them to the West camp,” he said lightly, but Newt merely shrugged, glancing over the glimmering boundary for weaknesses. “They'd just fight with Lamia instead,” he said wryly. Cal made a reluctant face of agreement.

“Come on then,” Newt continued, smiling brightly as he jerked his head for him to follow him. “Winnie's probably getting antsy by now.”

Cal hesitated, halting in his tracks. He frowned, throwing him a cautious glance. “Winnie?” he repeated, fingering his wand. “I thought she'd been upped to three handlers. Did Belby hang back?”

Newt shook his head, raising his arm to conjure the bucket of mutton from the storehouse. “No, it's just the pair of us, but we should be fine. I just need to drop this off for her and check her vitals.”

Cal raised his eyebrows, still looking slightly weary as he shifted his weight. “You know I haven't actually worked with her since we relocated her,” he pointed out. “She may not take too kindly to a new face. Might be better off just waiting til the others come back.”

“I suppose, but she hasn't had her lunch yet,” Newt grunted, lifting the bucket of meat to his chest. “And it's probably best not to upset her routine too much, not now that she's finally started eating more.” Newt's tone was matter-of-fact, already setting off again for the enclosure. Alderton sighed, hurrying to keep up.

“Alright then, but if I lose an arm, I better get my weight's worth of galleons in worker's comp,” he joked, pursing his lips. Newt smiled benignly, hoisting the food a bit higher in his arms.

“...So, she's doing better then, I hear?” Alderton continued, glancing at him as they approached the hill.

“Better,” Newt acknowledged, a crease appearing in his forehead. “Still hardly what I'd call up to scratch.”

“Been eating more, though?”

“When she can keep it down,” Newt nodded, frowning.

Cal's brow furrowed, his expression heavy. “Nothing came back on the tests?” he asked.

Newt sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, we've been limited in how many samples we can take, but all the common maladies came up empty. We'll keep searching though.”

Alderton looked troubled at this, glancing at him as they started to climb the hill.

“...I do have a theory,” Newt admitted, panting slightly as he readjusted the bucket of food. Alderton frowned, still watching him. “I've been wondering if she hadn't been trafficked,” he continued breathlessly.

“What?” Alderton repeated, looking alarmed. “Why on Earth would you think _that_?”

“Just a hunch,” Newt said mildly, shrugging. “It would explain a lot.”

“Did you find markings on her?” Alderton asked, sounding confused.

“No,” Newt said simply, and left it at that.

They continued in silence for a few minutes, Newt slowing to a halt as they reached the boundary of Winnie's habitat.

“Let's tread carefully,” he said calmly, lowering his voice an octave. “I introduced my sister-in-law to her last week, and she did alright, but you never do know, do you?”

Cal threw him a very wry look, shuddering slightly. Newt smiled, leading the way in.

Winnie was curled up in her favorite spot of grass, her head bowed under her wing. She looked like she may have been sleeping, were it not for the beady yellow eye peeking out at him. Newt chuckled, his smile widening.

Newt's steps were featherlight as he breached the perimeter, Alderton lingering a few paces behind. He was several yards in when he paused, his breath catching as Winnie met his gaze.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Newt said softly, setting down the bucket as he pulled out a piece of meat. “Sorry we're a bit behind schedule today. Do you remember our friend Cal?”

Winnie blinked, gazing at him steadily. Newt waited patiently, his body still. Winnie paused for a moment, then huffed, steam billowing from her snout.

“That's right, girl,” Newt smiled, turning over the drumstick in his hands. “Are you hungry?” Behind him, Cal took a small step forward, making rough crooning noises intended to mimic a mother's song. “Good girl,” Newt said approvingly, pulling his arm back in preparation to throw out her first serving. He let loose, the mutton soaring through the air, clattering to the ground a few feet from where Winnie still lay. She hesitated, and Newt tensed, hearing the low growl.

“Get back,” he said sharply, his voice hoarse as he moved his body in front of Alderton's. He heard a shuffling noise behind him, his eyes still fixed on the creature in front of him.

“It's alright,” he said softly, keeping his voice low. “She did this to Belby the other day too. She'll calm down in a minute.”

There was silence for a moment, and Newt relaxed, seeing her rest her head back down on her front arm.

“There you are,” he whispered, smiling slightly. “Want some more?” He bent down, digging out a second piece of mutton. “Good girl,” he repeated, watching her sniff the first as he wound his arm back for another throw. “Very g-”

He jumped back, anticipating what would happen a moment before it did. Winnie _seethed_ , rising up onto her back haunches as she let loose a deafening roar.

“OI! You're alright, you're alright -” Newt grimaced, his wand at the ready, as Winnie turned her attention on him. He started, seeing the rage in her wide yellow eyes. “Easy, girl,” he breathed. “Easy.” He held out his hands, doing his best to look nonthreatening.

She darted forward, straining the magical chains locking her in place. A second bellow pierced the air, a set of giant jaws snapping menacingly.

It happened in an instant – a sudden _clank_ , a grunt of pain, and then Alderton was falling, going down heavily as he tripped over the food bucket. Winnie reared up, braying madly, and it was too late for anyone to stop it, the combination of Newt's temporary distraction and the unexpected loud noise on the tempestuous dragon proving to be too much. Newt felt the heat of the flame on his flesh even as he Disapparated hastily away, his body swirling with the orange fire as he flashed out of existence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: WHOA THERE? WTF JUST HAPPENED??? Geez idk ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Sure hope there's an update soon.


	11. Licked Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There is some aaaangst in this chapter. (BTW, for reference - “sap” meant sort of just 'a general stupid person' in the first half of the twentieth century, as opposed to the 'excessively emotional' meaning it has nowadays. I thought I should point that out in case there was any confusion!)
> 
> (Trigger Warning for emetophobia.)

The bright lights of the hospital wing shined back at him as Newt tried to settle himself against the sheets, in a futile attempt to get more comfortable. His body screamed in protest; he could taste blood where he'd bitten down too hard on the inside of his cheek.

Newt sighed, glancing around the room. He knew he ought to consider himself lucky; his injury could have been far worse, and he'd even managed to be shunted into a private room for the time being. There were no Healers fussing over him at the moment, or fellow patients or their visitors chatting away, leaving him free to ruminate on his thoughts. He was only dimly aware of the pains shooting down his right side, extending from his ribs all the way up to his cheekbone, dulled by any number of healing potions that had been shoved down his throat in the past half hour. Nevertheless, his mind kept returning back to his poor sickly charge, and he wondered for what must have been the twelfth time in less than an hour what could have been the cause of her erratic behavior.

Newt closed his eyes, lying his head back against the stiff hospital pillow. He'd developed an itch just above his right rib, completely out of reach under the thick layer of bandages, and Newt grimaced, trying to ignore it. He was uncomfortable, he was worried about Winnie, and more than anything, he wished he could see -

A sudden clatter broke him from his thoughts, the door to his room swinging open with a bang. He glanced up, spotting a very familiar figure hovering in the doorway. His lips turned up instinctively, his eyes widening at the sight.

“...Hello,” he said feebly, smiling brightly.

Tina glared at him, her eyes positively blazing as she took a few long strides into the room. Her dark hair and robes burned starkly against the white adornments of the hospital room, making her presence all the more dramatic as she towered, glowering, over his person. Newt flinched, cowering under her gaze.

“I'll bet when we were here this morning, you weren't expecting to be back quite so soon,” he joked, giving her a bracing smile.

Tina's already drawn eyebrows narrowed dangerously. Newt cringed, another agonized scream ripping through him at the sudden movement. He struggled feverishly to suppress the gasp of pain that threatened to break loose, but to no avail; he blinked furiously as he felt his eyes began to water.

Tina softened, watching him. He spared a glance at her, equal parts guilt and affection washing over him.

“I am sorry, Tina, I didn't mean to frighten you,” he said earnestly, trying hard to smile. “I'm absolutely fine, though, nothing to-”

“Let me see it.” Her voice was quiet, breath slightly hitched as she forced the words out. Newt hesitated, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he moved his good arm to start unwrapping the bandages.

“...I'm not sure what the Healers told you already, but it's really not bad at all,” he said gently, searching out her eyes again. Tina ignored this, her gaze meandering over his many dressings as she started helping him remove the bandages. It took them a few minutes to get them all off, their hands working in tandem to unwrap the heavy gauze. He did his face last, knowing she would react badly to the raw skin. Tina didn't disappoint; her eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, before she forced herself to open them again, studying the extent of the damage with piercing eyes. His skin was shiny and pink, covered in a thin layer of healing cream, giving the burns a yellowish tinge.

“It was worse when I came in,” he added, after a very long silence. “Healer Ruddy already managed to take care of the blisters, and that's always the worst bit, really. Another day or so of potion and salves, I won't even be able to feel it.”

Tina was quiet, fingers brushing gently around the tender skin. He glanced at her wistfully, smiling a little in spite of himself at the simple comfort afforded by her touch.

“...How many people were in the enclosure with you?” she asked evenly, after a moment.

Newt hesitated, his expression sheepish. She stared back at him blankly, and Newt sighed, causing his enflamed flesh to once again shriek in disapproval. “Just - just Cal Alderton,” he said lightly, barely meeting her gaze.

Tina tensed. A thrill of foreboding washed over him, and he swallowed in anticipation of her reply.

“Weren't you telling me security had went up to three wands, since she started getting her strength back?” Her tone was sharp, the flames in her eyes rivaling those of the very creature they were discussing.

“I did say that, yes,” he agreed, offering her a small smile.

Tina stared back at him, unamused, as she clenched her jaw.

“I suppose this is where you yell at me and call me a sap or a Dorcas or some other _bizarre_ but endearing Americanism,” he said meekly, trying again for a smile.

Tina was silent, her expression stony as she Summoned the essence of murtlap from the counter. She didn't say a word as she picked up the cloth floating in the bowl, squeezing it to wring out the excess liquid.

“Tina, darling?” Newt winced.

She met his gaze for a second, still not bothering to reply as she pressed the cloth to his bare shoulder. He relaxed a bit; her touch was surprisingly gentle.

“As I said, I should be fine in a few days,” he said tentatively, offering her another hopeful smile as he attempted to catch her eye. “The worst of it's my shoulder, that's where I got the brunt of it, but I was wearing my gear at the time, so I was able to avoid any permanent damage-”

He'd expected her to shout, but the reality was so much worse. Her lip trembled for a moment, and Newt felt his heart sink all the way to his legs as the first tear trickled down her cheek.

“...Tina?” he whispered weakly. He felt his breath catch, on the verge of moving his left hand to reach for her when she suddenly blanched. “Tina?” he repeated, more sharply this time.

Tina's shoulders gave a violent shudder, then she moved so fast for a moment he thought she'd Disapparated. He watched as she scrambled toward the door, barely making it to the rubbish bin before emptying her stomach.

Newt cringed, trying to sit up, ignoring the pain as he struggled to his feet. Tina spun on her heel, hearing his gasp and the shuffle of blankets. “In the name of Deliverance Dane, you better get back in that bed before I put you there!” she snapped, sending him reeling back onto the mattress. She glared at him, her face red and crumpled.

“Are you alright?” Newt whispered, his expression agonized.

She snorted, shaking her head as she gazed back down over the bin, wiping her mouth on the corner of her sleeve. She winced, her hand fluttering to her stomach.

“Perhaps – perhaps you should speak to a Healer,” he said timidly, fear suddenly gripping him like some unknown beast.

Tina rolled her eyes, not bothering with a response. He relaxed slightly at the normalcy of this reaction, his heartbeat resuming its steady drum as he took her in. Part of him supposed he ought to be grateful, if this was indeed the worst of her wrath he was facing, but the other part yearned for her to _talk_ to him, scream at him even – anything was better than that hurt, disappointed look.

Newt kept his gaze locked firmly on the floor as he watched her pull a chair to the side of his bed from the corner of his eye, throwing her several cautious glances whenever he thought she wasn't looking.

He knew, of course, that she'd be upset, been half-dreading this moment even as he'd yearned for her company. Seeing her in such a state, though – his stomach turned over as he studied her expression. “Tina-?” he said softly, biting his lip as he struggled to continue.

“Don't,” she said quietly, and Newt fell silent, gazing down at his lap. Her reaction, more than anything else that had happened that day, was leaving him feeling positively ill. She was, after all, nearly always understanding of injuries, having brought home more than a few of them herself. To be sure, there was often something quite dreadful about it too - her look of fear and frustration usually piercing him far worse than the injury itself - but very rarely was she so _quiet_ about her feelings. He glanced at her with concern, before staring back at the floor, struggling to find the right words to say.

“...Tina, I promise you, the very worst I suffered were a couple of very small, second-degree burns.”

She might not have heard him for all the reaction he got, and Newt blinked, his eyes suddenly prickling. He couldn't understand it; this was hardly an unusual injury - on the contrary, he found himself in the Burns Ward with varying degrees of severity three or four times a year, and brought home milder burns on an almost weekly basis. He wondered feverishly if something else had happened, something that was upsetting her which had made news of his injury seem even worse than it was; he wanted desperately to ask her about it, but knew better than to push when she was so tightly coiled.

After a few minutes of awful, pained silence, Newt visibly relaxed, feeling Tina finally take his hand. The calm didn't last, however; the memory of what had immediately followed Winnie's attack came back in a flurry, and Newt braced himself once more as he felt her fingers tense around him.

“You _Splinched_ yourself?” she asked, clenching her jaw.

“...Just a smidge.” He smiled. It'd only been part of a finger, after all, and it was already in the midst of being regrown – nothing to fret over...

She gazed blankly back at him. “What happened?” she asked flatly.

“Erm-”

Tina raised her eyebrows. “Um, what?” she demanded.

Newt sighed, swallowing heavily as he launched himself into the story. Tina remained still as he rehashed the whole mess, telling her about how he'd sensed Winnie about to strike, how he'd Apparated almost immediately out of the line of fire, stopping just long enough to check that Alderton was unscathed before bringing himself to St. Mungo's, where he'd promptly been pinched and prodded and lathered with healing creams, much to his chagrin. She was silent throughout the retelling, her dark eyes only scarcely betraying the clash of emotions roaring through her.

“...Tina?” he said finally, when she failed to respond to his summary of events. “Can you talk to me?” he asked quietly, glancing up at her uneasily.

“I don't particularly _want_ to talk to you right now,” she said evenly, her shoulders shaking as she suppressed a sigh.

He flinched, looking up at her again. “Tina. I know you're upset-” he began.

“ _'Upset?'_ ” she repeated, raising her eyebrows. Her voice had climbed rapidly in pitch, the syllables almost squeaking out of her as she reared up for the attack.

 _“Tina_ ,” he said wearily, frowning slightly. Really, this was getting a bit ridiculous now, wasn't it? She was torturing herself over nothing, _nothing_...He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “You're being – a bit emotional about this, don't you think?” he continued, looking at her uncertainly. In contrast, his voice had grown softer and hoarser, his green eyes searching her expression desperately.

“Emotional?” she asked dangerously.

“I just meant – erm...” he hesitated, rooting through his mind for an explanation for her behavior. A sudden thought occurred to him. “Do – do you think this might have something to do with the baby?”

“It has _EVERYTHING_ to do with the baby!”

Newt jumped back, recoiling against the pillows. He'd been completely unprepared for the shout that had burst from his wife's mouth, and he paled visibly as Tina let loose.

“Does this mean NOTHING to you?” she asked heatedly, gesturing to her stomach. Newt's face fell, looking up at her in horror as she continued to scream at him. “Do you feel _NO_ sense of self-preservation, even _BASIC_ responsibility - is my happiness or peace of mind worth _SO_ little to you?!”

He blinked, feeling his eyes burn at her words. “Tina – what on Earth are you-” he faltered, trembling as he tried to catch his breath.

“How could you _do_ that to me?” she whispered.

“I – what?” he managed. He stared up at her, seeing the tears falling fast and hot down her apple-colored cheeks, a painful lump seizing his throat. Tina's shoulders shook as she cried, appearing not to care about trying to stem the flow of tears.

“Tina, please,” he murmured, wanting desperately to hold her, to _touch_ her – he stopped, seeing her quelling expression.

“...I know what it's like to grow up without a father,” she said slowly, her jaw set. “And I would never wish that on – anyone,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Her dark eyes burned into him as he sank deeper into the sheets. “Is that what you _want?_ ” she grimaced, breathless. “Is that the future you want for our son or daughter?”

“Oh, Tina,” he murmured, gazing at her imploringly. Tina shook her head, her voice shaking as she continued. “Because _that_ is what you risked, when you decided it wasn't worth waiting another ten LOUSY DAMN minutes until another handler could go with you, when you disrespected _everything_ we have built together, the promises we made...Did it even _occur_ to you that both of us – _both_ of us – put our lives in danger every single day, and the _least_ we can do for the ones we love is to take assurances that if the day ever comes that our family is ripped apart, we can at least offer our loved ones the COMFORT of knowing it was for a noble cause, and not because we treated our lives with as much irreverence as the decision of which color socks to put on in the morning!”

“I'm sorry,” he muttered, horror and shame washing over him. “You're right. I'm so sorry, Tina-”

She gritted her teeth, her mouth hardening in a straight line before she spat out, “I already raised Queenie alone, I really don't want to have to do it again.”

“You won't,” he said breathlessly, blinking fervently. “I promise you, Tina, I will be there at every turn, I don't want to miss _any_ of it-”

“Did you even _think_ about me before you walked into that enclosure?” she asked desperately, staring him down.

Newt paused, taking several seconds before he was able to summon his voice again. He had turned white, his jaw twitching as he battled the flood of emotion threatening to overtake him. “Tina – I promise you, I'm quite alright,” he said quietly.

“Well, _I'M_ not!”

Newt stared up at her, feeling paralyzed as he watched the flood of tears fall forth, his chest aching as he forced himself to meet her anguished gaze.

“Tina, I'm so...How can I fix this?” he asked finally, gingerly holding his breath. “Please – Tina – you know, I would never do anything to hurt you – you know how much I – please, tell me how to make this right-”

“Do not – _ever_ **–** do that again,” she said firmly, her dark eyes glimmering.

“I promise,” he murmured.

She fell silent, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The redness was leaving her face now, leaving her looking pale and withdrawn, worry lines still etched along her features.

Newt bit his lip, trying desperately not to tremble.

“Tina – could you hold my hand?” he asked shakily, after a few second's additional silence. Tina stared at him, her shoulders sagging as he dared to search out her gaze.

“I – _yes_ ,” she whispered immediately, her hand finding his again. He wanted so much to comfort her, to reassure her, tell her how much he loved her, but her outburst had seized something primal inside him, stripping away his energy and leaving him motionless on the bed, barely able to so much as keep his eyes open. His chest clenched when she leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his temple. A twinge of shame mingled with his relief – he ought to have been kissing _her_ , not the other way around.

“I _am_ sorry,” he said finally, his breath catching. His eyes were quite wet; his injured hand ached when he tried to wipe them, a few stray tears slipping under the bandage on his cheek and making it itch.

Tina was watching him now, leaning forward tentatively so her lips hovered beside his ear. She sighed softly, her voice a beacon in the unnaturally quiet room. They stared at each other, trepidantly exchanging a few unspoken words before Newt turned his gaze back onto his lap. Tina bowed her head, a lone tear escaping before she wiped it impatiently away.

He was quiet as they sat together, taking comfort simply from the feel of her fingers against his. She hadn't moved away despite the seconds ticking by, and he knew she couldn't be comfortable, stooped over like that with her face inches from his. He was immensely grateful all the same; the reality of her close proximity sending pleasant tingles shooting through his veins. Tina sighed.

Newt turned his head, his eyes traveling over her tired face, and he was surprised to see the beginnings of a rueful smile starting to take shape across her cheeks, though it was gone as quickly as it came. He exhaled shakily, brushing his finger against her cheek.

Tina was quiet for a moment, chewing her lip and watching him intently, and a hum of relief escaped Newt's throat as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“...Newt?” she whispered hoarsely, their eyes finding each other.

“Yes,” he managed, shuddering at her closeness.

She blinked slowly, running a hand through his hair. Tina's voice was soft when she finally spoke again. “...I love you, you sappy, screwy, insufferable Dorcas.”

Newt smiled, warmth washing over him as a tear trickled down his face.

  
  


* * *

Newt sat quietly in their sitting room early that evening, trying and failing to edit what was due to become the fifth edition of _Fantastic Beasts._ A stack of notes littered the coffee table, in a state of disarray where the Kneazle had battered them about.

It had been a very long day.

It seemed like weeks ago that he had heard their baby's heartbeat for the first time, since he'd met Tina's bright eyes across the hospital bed, shining as she'd grinned so beautifully at him. She'd barely spoken to him all afternoon, despite being almost permanently by his side – first at St. Mungo's, then helping him up the path and into the cottage, and now, sharing the sofa, one of the Kneazles snoozing between them, huddled across Tina's feet.

Newt sighed, crossing out a note he had made with a frustrated scribble. He glanced over, taking in the image of his wife curled up like a cat at the other end of the couch. She looked completely engrossed in whatever report she was mulling over, her dark hair falling across her face as she toyed with a quill.

“Have you given any thought to what you might like for dinner?” he asked tentatively, desperate for any form of conversation, no matter how trite.

“...Something with _fruit_ , I suppose,” she said wryly, not glancing up from her documents.

He pursed his lips, his cheeks turning pink as he fell silent.

They sat quietly for a good twenty minutes, Newt trying fervently to focus on his writings. Unfortunately, the paragraph he was working on – a summary of the Ilfracombe Incident – was hardly an adequate distraction from his troubles. He turned a page in his notebook, working for awhile on assembling a report of Winnie's progress. This, too, however, failed to hold his attention, and it wasn't long before he started doodling in the margins.

It was several minutes before he became conscious of what he'd been drawing, and a blissful smile swept across his features as he studied his work. Rather than his usual mindless sketches – most often depictions of various magical creatures, or on occasion in recent years, the face of the woman laying across from him – instead, most unusually, tonight he'd traced out the outlines of nonliving things, though he could hardly pretend not to notice a recurring theme in them. He smiled tearfully, his eyes wandering over the parchment. There was a crib etched along in the top corner, below which he'd drawn a diaper, then a dummy, and a rattle, followed by a mobile...Newt paused, turning his head slightly so as to watch Tina for awhile. If she noticed, she didn't glance up.

He gazed at her in silence for another few minutes, gradually summoning his courage.

“I feel terrible,” he finally confessed, his voice a little hoarse.

“I'll get you some more murtlap,” she murmured, standing up.

“No, I mean-” he flushed, swallowing sharply. “...I'm so sorry, Tina.”

She paused, hovering in the threshold. She sighed, turning slowly to face him.

“Well – I felt terrible earlier,” she said softly. “And - I'm sorry too,” she sighed.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said soberly, blinking a few times.

She bit her lip, looking rueful. “I may have overreacted a bit,” she confessed, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Newt shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. “You didn't.”

“Of course I did,” Tina scoffed. “You were lying in the hospital, and all I could do was yell and cry instead of taking care of you.”

He frowned at her words, staring stubbornly at the carpet. “You did take care of me. And I'm immensely grateful...but that's exactly my point.” Newt swallowed, his voice lowering. “I'm supposed to be taking care of you right now, not the other way around.”

Tina sighed, rolling her eyes. “I'm not an invalid, Newt, I don't need you fetching me food and potion all the time,” she said flatly. “...At least, not _yet,_ ” she muttered, smirking slightly, but Newt didn't smile back.

“You don't need the stress,” he said quietly. “I feel – I can't help feeling like I've failed you,” he stammered, his green eyes pained.

“Don't be ridiculous,” she said worriedly, taking a step forward. She stared at him for a moment, organizing her thoughts. “...I'm really alright,” she promised, after a moment. “The potion the Healer gave me has been helping with the nausea, and since I started getting nine hours of sleep I'm feeling so much better-”

“I'm glad,” he said softly, finally meeting her gaze. “I love you very much, Tina. I want you to know that.”

“...Of course I know that,” she chuckled tiredly, squinting at him.

“And I –” He stared up at her, his eyes prickling. “I love our child. I'm already so in love with it. I think about them all the time. What they'll look like, and what sort of creatures they might enjoy...all the things I'd like to show them, places we might take them together-”

She smiled, ducking her head for a moment before glancing back up at him. Newt beamed, his breath catching.

Tina bit her lip, watching him.

“Could – could you come here?” he asked timidly, hope seeping through his voice.

She smiled, immediately stepping forward. He moved his work off his lap, perching them on the already overflowing coffee table before turning back toward her. He held his breath as she seated herself beside him on the couch, scooting a few inches away so she could stretch out sideways, resting her head in his lap.

“Is this alright?” she asked quietly, tipping her face back to look at him. “I'm not hurting you, am I?”

“It's fine,” he assured her, brushing his hand over her hair.

She nodded, getting more comfortable as she burrowed the side of her face against his thighs. Newt bowed his head, closing his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the spot just below her ear. Tina sighed, feeling some of the tension flow from her overworked muscles.

“...I shouldn't have yelled at you,” she said softly, after a moment's silence.

“I'm glad you did. And I'm glad you told me how you felt. You were right, it was selfish, and – and irresponsible.”

“Well, I love you anyway,” she said wryly, shifting so she was lying on her back, gazing up at him.

Newt paused, breathing slowly as he bestowed on her a rueful smile. “Tina-”

“Shhh. I know,” she said softly, finding his hand and squeezing it.

“No, I need to get this out,” he said quietly, his brow furrowing. She blinked, waiting patiently for him to continue. It took him a moment to get started, struggling to find the words.

“I want you to know – there is always a chance I'll get hurt again,” he said honestly, tentatively meeting her eyes. Newt paused for a moment at their intensity, the rich, dark browns never ceasing to make his heart beat faster. He swallowed, continuing. “My life, What I do – injuries are a part of the job,” he admitted, sounding weary. “But I promise you, any injuries from here on out will be the result of something _unavoidable_ \- something I couldn't have possibly foreseen or averted. I promise, Tina. I will never let myself get into a situation again that could have been so easily prevented.”

“I'd appreciate that,” she chuckled.

“I'm serious,” Newt said softly, his voice slightly hoarse. Tina gnawed her lip, meeting his gaze. “I promise, I will always do my very best to come home to you,” he said quietly, rubbing a lock of shiny dark hair between his fingers. “And I want you to know, I have every intention of watching our children grow up - of meeting our grandchildren – of growing old by your side. I will do everything in my power to ensure that comes to pass, Tina. And that is the truth.”

She sighed slowly, closing her eyes for a moment. “Thank you,” she whispered. He heard her gasp as he bent low to press his lips to hers, ignoring the impediment the bandages forced on him as he lost himself in the softness of her lips.

It was a merciless position, but he found he didn't much care, his senses swept away by the sensations she was stirring in him, their noses bumping together in their haste for closeness. His fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer until he could feel bruises blossoming across his lips.

“I love you,” he gasped, bringing his mouth back to hers. “Tina, please...can we – will you let me-” Newt groaned, pulling her back into his kiss. “Please,” he murmured, his chest heaving a moment later as he met her eyes.

Tina raised her eyebrows slightly, her plumped lips dropping open a bit in surprise as she realized what he was suggesting. “ _Can_ you?” she asked, sounding slightly out of breath. She frowned, stroking the side of the bandage that extended up his cheek.

“Yes,” he muttered frantically. “We'll have to be a bit careful, but-”

She cut him off with a kiss.

* * *

Newt didn't sleep well that night, though he was relieved to find Tina in a considerably better mood upon waking the next morning. There was still a drawn quality to her face, but she gave him a small smile when he greeted her, glancing up from her spot at the kitchen table. He'd come back inside after feeding his creatures to find her up and about as usual, sipping from a mug of hot coffee with her head in a report.

“Morning,” he said lightly, his voice slightly tentative as he tried to get a grasp of her mood. “Morning,” she replied vaguely, the corners of her lips turning up. “There's fresh rolls if you want them, Queenie sent over a plate of them again.”

Newt smiled, feeling faintly amused. It was an enormous comfort, knowing he had a whole extra set of eyes looking out for his wife, and it seemed Queenie was going to be making a habit of ensuring her new niece or nephew was well-fed. “Has the mail come already?” he asked, slightly surprised.

“Just a minute ago. You've got a letter.” She glanced at where she'd left it, resting atop the unopened newspaper on the counter. “Sorry, I can't get up. The kneazle's in my lap,” she explained, smiling apologetically, and Newt chuckled as he moved to retrieve it.

“How's your-?”

He met her eyes hesitantly, joining her at the table. “It's not bad. The pain medicine they've prescribed makes me a bit loopy when I first take it, but that's the worst of it.”

She nodded, looking slightly troubled, but her smile was genuine as she brushed her hand against his knee under the table. “What's that?” she added curiously, seeing the emerald green envelope he was clutching.

“It's from the office, I think,” he muttered, sliding open the seal with a tap from his wand. “Probably a summons to come in early for a meeting of senior staff, we're overdue for a progress report.”

Tina nodded, turning back to her breakfast as he unfolded the parchment. The kitchen fell silent, the only sounds that of her turning a page in the huge binder spread before her.

“Newt?” she prodded, glancing up when she realized he hadn't spoken for several seconds. She frowned, taking in the twitching muscle in his jaw. “What's the matter?”

He didn't reply right away, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“No,” he murmured, his hands shaking as he reread the letter. “I can't believe them.” He stood, pushing back his chair with an angry scraping noise.

“What is it?” Tina stared at him with mounting concern, joining him on her feet.

Newt didn't respond, his eyes still blazing. He made no move to stop her as she pried the letter from his hands, her dark hair falling across her face as she skimmed the parchment.  
  


 

Tina looked up, her hands shaking. Newt was pale and trembling, his knuckles white where he grasped his wand.

“Newt,” she breathed, swallowing.

“I need to go,” he said abruptly, refusing to meet her eyes. “I'm sorry, I need to see if I can't stop this-”

“Take Floo,” she urged. “Those pain potions they've got you on, you shouldn't be Apparating-”

He nodded reluctantly, moving toward the living room. Tina stared after him, her expression anguished.

“Newt, wait-”

He stopped, turning just in time to catch sight of her rushing toward him, her hand cupping the good side of his face as she captured him in a sweeping kiss.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she whispered, finally pulling away. He smiled, closing his eyes for a moment before turning his gaze back to her, his expression pained but adoring.

“That won't be necessary. Finish your breakfast, I'll talk to you at lunch,” he promised, sighing deeply.

“Newt-” she bit her lip, her eyes gleaming. He swallowed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you. I'll send you an owl when I get any news,” he said thickly, unable to look at her.

She nodded, squeezing his hand for a moment before allowing him to pull away. She watched tearfully as he stepped into the fireplace, his pale face still drawn and anxious, all the more pitiful with the presence of the large bandage still decorating his right cheek.

Tina stood in silence for a moment after he'd disappeared, her shoulders heaving as she tried to contain the wave of anger and grief brimming just under her surface.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Comments are always appreciated. <3


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